New York Night II: A New York Novel
by Gilmoregirl19
Summary: With a book topping all the charts, a toddler and a husband, Hartford's prying eyes, Stars Hallow meddling and newfound fame is Rory able to manage it all? Sequel to: New York Night. ROGAN.
1. Home Sweet Hallow

****

A long note from your lovely author:

Welcome back to the wonderful world of New York Night! I've missed it, more than I realized, so thank-you all who told me they were anxious about the sequel and motivated me to write for this, instead of something else. I hope it doesn't disappoint. Just as this story was my first piece of fan-fiction, this is my first attempt at writing a sequel, so bear with me as the story picks up a little slow.

In this author's note, I've added a timeline, since it got a little jumbled after forty chapters of New York Night. I'll do my best to stick to the timeline. Also, new readers (hi!), it sort of summarizes the main events, but if you really want the full NYN-experience, I recommend checking out part one of this tale.

And, I've got a little favor to ask. I'd like you to let me know your favorite parts of NYN (like, the baby shower, Logan's proposal, Lorelai getting mad…) because these bits will probably make their way back into the story and I'd thought it'd be cool if you could have your say!

Okay so, here are the Important Events in New York Night:

**October 14, 2008** - Logan and Rory reunite after meeting at an Industry Party. Lottie conceived.

**December 10,2008** – Logan and Rory marry in a intimate ceremony at Lumley Castle, England.

**Stars Hallow Baby Shower/Wedding Reenactment** - 12 June, 2009

**Hartford Baby Shower** – 30 June, 2009

**Lorelai Charlotte Huntzberger** – born July 1, 2009

**Honor + Josh baby born: **– born February 5, 2010

**New York Novel completed** – August, 2010

**Book Set for Printing**– 12 June, 2011 (3rd Annual Wedding Reenactment)

Note the last part as it marks the starting point for New York Night II: A New York Novel! Enjoy, enjoy! I hope it lives up to the expectations! Much love!

**Disclaimer: I do not own the wonderfulness ASP created. **

* * *

"Alright, see you Monday!" Rory exclaimed happily as she clicked her cell phone shut.

"Good news, Ace?" Logan asked, as he glanced over at her with a smile in his eyes.

Rory waited a beat before answering her husband. She wanted to savor this moment as she hadn't expected it to feel so powerful and life-changing but it did. Finally, almost a year after completing her novel, simply entitled "New York Night", she had gotten the call that her book was going to be printed. This was huge on a personal level, but it was big for Huntzberger Publishing Group. This was a completely new venture for the company and that Mitchum trusted her book to headline the new business was a tremendous compliment. He had accepted her as Logan's wife long ago, but she had finally gained his respect as a career woman, too.

For a while, it seemed like she would never get to that place where she felt confident and comfortable enough to have other people read her book. It was different from her previous writing since it was by far the most personal piece she had written and she wasn't sure she was ready to have it critiqued.

Ultimately, Logan convinced her that it would be better to try and be rejected than never to try and live in regret. She was grateful to him for so many things – Lottie the most – but letting her write and encouraging to develop a career, pursue her dreams was definitely a close second.

"Great news, babe," she beamed. The summer sun shone through the windshield, making her features sparkle even more. Rory reached behind her passenger seat chair to give her daughter's bare foot a quick squeeze. Lottie was sitting comfortably in her car-seat and smiled at her mom, before returning her attention back to her stuffed animal.

"Did you hear that, Ness?" Logan asked and stole a look at his doting almost two-year old baby girl through his rearview mirror. "Mommy has great news!"

Lottie looked up and met her mother's big blue eyes staring back at her. She gurgled contently, before sticking her chubby pointer finger in her mouth. "Mommy news," she giggled happily as her big head of curly brown hair bounced around.

Logan and Rory shared another content smile – their little girl was growing up so fast! "It was Bridget," Rory told him, continuing with her tale of good news. "The printers start tomorrow and she wants to do lunch on Monday to go over the details for the promotional campaign before the launch next week…."

"Look at you," Logan said with pride lacing his tone, "Doing lunch, going on promotional campaigns…"

Rory laughed, causing Lottie to join in with her own fit of happy giggles. "Seriously though, Ace," he continued as the girls laughter died down, "I'm so proud of you! This is going to be amazing!"

Of course he would say that. The success of the new venture was partly his responsibility. Not only was Rory's reputation as a writer on the line, HPG's image as a corporate powerhouse was, too.

"I'm sure your book will blow-up, Ace," Logan told her as he saw a flash of uncertainty in her eyes.

Rory shot him a half-smile. "I don't know about blowing-up, babe…"

"Boom, mommy!" Lottie interjected enthusiastically, "like this…" The toddler widened her eyes and encircled her mouth with her hands. She paused theatrically before making some hacking noises and flailing her arms about wildly, before dramatically dropping her head. Lottie remained in this lifeless position for a moment, before she slowly lifted her head to meet Rory's amused gaze.

"Like that," she clarified with a cheeky grin.

"Really? Just like that, Lot?" Logan asked, having observed the whole thing through his rearview mirror, but Lottie had already lost interest and continued talking to her baby bunny toy. "She gets it from Lorelai, you know that, right?" he laughed as Rory caught the mischievous sparkle in her daughter's eye.

"Perhaps," she cocked her head to the side in contemplation, "but you've always had a dramatic touch…."

"I most certainly do not!" he replied in mock-exasperation, causing Rory to raise an eyebrow at him.

"Is that so?" A flirtatious smile tugged at her lips, "Do I need to remind you of a certain college lecture you interrupted?"

Logan responded with a loud laugh. Of course he remembered how he, Finn and Colin barged into her class as both he and Colin proceeded to proclaim their love for her. Finn eventually intervened. He continued chuckling at the memory as he looked at his wife's mock-angered face.

He reached over the middle console and squeezed her hand. "Those were the days!"

She glanced down at their intertwined hands, both wedding bands glistening in the sun, and a bright smile appeared on her face.

"What?"

"Nothing." She shot him a coy smile. "You're cute."

"Not so bad yourself, there, Ace."

Rory continued to look at him as he drove and she stole a quick look at her content daughter in the backseat. In this moment, her life couldn't have been more perfect. All the hardships she and Logan had endured were certainly worth it, but since Lottie's birth things had slowed down considerably. Logan worked, but he didn't have crazy 100-hour weeks, or lengthily business trips and Rory continued to write and raise their daughter. They lived in a completely harmonious, care-free world. It daunted her somewhat that with her book being published she'd be messing with their life, changing things up. Again it was Logan who soothed her fears, but she wouldn't allow herself to go along in his 'you-won't-fail' attitude.

"Logan, I know you think this book will be big, but I don't think the book will hit the best-seller list in the first week. I mean, how often does that happen?"

"You don't know that, Ace," Logan warned playfully, "Bridget is the best in the business…."

Rory didn't doubt this. Bridget was just a couple years older than Rory, but she'd been working in the book publishing business forever and was known to be ruthless, if need be. Luckily, Bee did not have the icy exterior to match her, at times, cutting professional stance. She was fun, bouncy and bubbly.

"And besides," he continued in his playful tone, "I've read the book. Numerous times!"

"All that proofreading has made you biased, babe," she laughed in reply. "Not to mention I'm your wife."

"This is so, but I would never tell you what you wanted to hear."

Rory nodded fondly, knowing this to be true. Still, she couldn't help but tease him a little, "Even if I withheld sex?"

He shot her a mock-surprised look. "Like you could go without this?" Logan smirked as he brushed his hand over his chest, causing Rory and Lottie to burst out in laughter.

"Your Daddy is silly, isn't he?" Rory asked her daughter and laughed again as little Lottie nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh, right, drag our innocent daughter into this conversation!"

"There is no dragging!" Rory exclaimed in mock-offence, "She's just incapable of lying!"

Logan shot an unimpressed glance her way, but she just shrugged it off. A sharp buzz interrupted the family of three's antics.

"Lorelai?" Logan asked as he caught Rory smiling at the text. Still, it was too early for Lorelai to be texting them about their whereabouts – Stars Hallow was still another hour and a half away.

"No, it's Bee. She wanted to know if we could swing by the printers tomorrow. I told her we couldn't, but…"

"…she doesn't get why." Logan completed the sentence. Bridget was a professional wonder woman but lacked the family life Rory loved. The two women got along wonderfully; yet Bee had a nasty habit of undermining family related happenings such as 'The Third Annual Huntzberger Wedding Reenactment', which Rory, Logan and little Lottie were on their way to attend. It's a shame it coincided with the first book-printing, but the Wedding Reenactment was tradition.

* * *

"Lottie, we're here," Rory whispered as she ran a finger across her daughter's cheek as Logan parked the car in Lorelai's driveway. "We're at Grandma's!" Logan added, but Lottie didn't stir.

Both parents were so engaged with their young one, that neither noticed Lorelai was walking towards them with a tray of coffees. She placed the tray on the hood, before making her way over to the passengers side and knocking on the window. "Coffee, coffee, coffee!"

Rory whipped her head around and laughed at her mother's antics. She placed her index finger over her lips, indicating for Lorelai to simmer down, since neither wanted Lottie to wake up cranky.

Carefully, Rory opened the car door.

"She's asleep?" Lorelai questioned with wide eyes and a hint of disappointment in her voice. "You told her she was going to Good Grandma's, right?"

"Yes, mom," Rory shook her head laughing as she embraced her mother. "I told her we were going to her favorite grandma and I guess the excitement was too much to handle..."

Logan chuckled as he overheard the conversation. "Lorelai, you know the anticipation just got to her!"

She looked up and pressed a quick kiss on her son-in-law's cheek. "Please, she probably passed out because of your old-man kind of driving," she teased, before glancing at the car and taking in her sleeping granddaughter.

"Why is she so damn cute? It makes it hard to hold a grudge…" Lorelai raised her arms and sighed, "She is forgiven… So, do you want some coffee?"

"Do you even have to ask?" Rory retorted, taking two Styrofoam cups from the tray. She raised the cup to her nose, sniffing up and savoring the delicious scent that was unique to Luke's homebrew. Out of all the little, quirky coffee shops she'd sampled in New York, which she considered to be her home, nothing compared to the sweet, slightly tart creaminess of Luke's coffee. Rory licked her lips in anticipation, before savoring the first sip of goodness.

"Jeez Rory, it's just coffee!" Luke said, making his way down the porch steps.

Lorelai gasped loudly and pointed at Luke. "Take that back! It's not _just_ coffee, it's the eight wonder of the world…."He rolled his eyes as Lorelai continued her rant. "…the elixir or life, the magical make-everything-better-beverage, it's what brought us together! That's how powerful coffee is, Luke. It controls destiny! Like God! God is coffee!"

By now, Logan and Rory had huge grins on their faces as they watched the scene continue to unfold. "Really, Luke, after all that how can you say it's just coffee? Insult coffee?!"

He glared at her and shrugged.

"That's what I thought." She held up her Styrofoam cup, "You must apologize."

"I'm not apologizing to a cup of coffee…."

Lorelai shot him a stern look, causing Luke to let out a sigh. "You are nuts; you are lucky I haven't had you admitted to someplace with nice, cushiony walls, you know that, right?"

Grinning, she snaked her arm around his waist, pulling him in. "You love me too much to do something silly like that!"

He shot her a smile and pressed a kiss on the top of her head. "I do." However, this display of affection didn't get him out of apologizing to the coffee. "So, apologize," she urged, with a small wave.

"Lorelai…"

"Luke…." Lorelai drew out in a sing-song tone as she held the coffee cup up to his face.

"Fine," he huffed, "Sorry."

"Sorry, who?"

"Sorry, coffee…"

He caught the disapproving look on her face. "God," he corrected and her frown turned into a smile as she and Rory shared a laugh. Luke turned to Logan and pointed at Lorelai, "That's your future."

He let out a hearty laugh and shook Luke's hand, greeting him. "You don't seem to concerned about this," Luke noted teasingly.

Logan shot him a half-smile and lowered his voice, "They can hear us, man..."

"Hey!" Rory called out, "We can here you!"

The two men dropped their heads in mock-defeat, before turning to their ladies. "We'll just go get the bags, Ace."

"You've trained him well." Lorelai laughed. "Go inside, I'll get Lottie."

* * *

"Hello, sweet pea," she greeted, running her hand through Lottie's soft curls. "You've gotten so big. Grandma's going to have to figure our a way to stop this, you know…"

Lottie stirred as Lorelai picked her up. Instead of crying, like Rory had become used to, the young girl looked at her grandma curiously.

"Well, look who is awake," she laughed and pressed a raspberry-kiss on her cheek causing Lottie to squirm in amusement.

"Glama!"

"Ooh," Lorelai stopped walking and stared at her granddaughter. "Glama, huh? I like that, sweet pea!"

Quickening her pace, Lorelai made her way up the porch steps and triumphantly made her way into the living room. "Big news!" she told an curious looking Luke, Logan and Rory.

"What?"

"Today on June 11th 2011, the lovely and talented Miss Lorelai Charlotte Huntzberger, my first and as of yet only granddaughter, has finally decided on my Grandma Name!"

Rory gave her mother a blank stare, "Like she did on December 2, 2010, when she called you Blue-bah?"

"Excuse me, Blue-bah was a momentary lapse of judgment on this little one's behalf. I'm sure she just had be confused with her other grandmas…"

"So, what's the name?" Luke asked, humoring her.

Lorelai looked down at the toddler on her hip, "Do you want to tell them, or should I?" Lottie remained silent.

"I like how you think, kid," Lorelai nodded understandingly. "What's my name, sweet pea?"

Lottie looked up and pointed a chubby finger at her. "Glama" she responded simply and Lorelai kissed on her cheek. "So proud!"

"Glama," Logan and Rory repeated at the same time, causing Lorelai to smirk. "I don't want to hear anything from you two, I like it and I'm keeping the name!" She set Lottie down and kneeled so as to be eye level with the girl.

"Go tell 'em!"

Lottie looked at her parents, but set off in the other direction to where Lorelai kept a box of toys.

"She'll tell you later," Lorelai laughed as she kept a watchful eye on the little girl, who was now playing with a doll in the corner of the living room. All three adults shared a smile as they watched Lottie play.

"So, when does the gang get in?" Rory asked, focusing her gaze back on her mom.

"Later, they'll be here for dinner," Lorelai told her, "Al's has a special Food of the World Week…."

"Oh, I love Food of the World Week!" Rory clapped excitedly. "Where else can you get Indian, Mexican, Italian and Thai at the same place?"

"Lorelai! It's Al's!" Luke raised his hands in frustration. "It's food poisoning on a plate!"

"You are just jealous you didn't come up with Food of the World Week…" Lorelai told him.

"Yeah!" Rory added for good measure.

Luke shook his head. "Logan?" he pleaded.

"I'm sorry, man. I like Al's," Logan shrugged. "It's part of Stars Hallow..."

"Way to stick up for me," Luke mock-scolded as he got off the couch. "I'm just going to see what Lot's up to. Obviously, she's the only sane one here!"

"So testy…" Lorelai laughed as she watched him go, knowing it was all in good fun. "So, anything new and exciting in your lives?"

"The book is at the printers," Rory told her mother, "Bee called on the way down to let me know. We start promo Monday!"

"Finally!" Lorelai exclaimed, "I can't wait to read it, instead of that stapled mess you call a manuscript!"

Rory shrugged, "You'll have the first copy, I swear."

"Better be signed, Missy," Lorelai warned in jest, "Your signature is going to be worth millions one day…."

"Mom!"

"Don't fight it, Ace. If you don't want to hear it from me, at least listen to your mother! Has she even steered you wrong?" he asked smirking.

She playfully swatted him with a throw pillow. "Luke's right, you really are a traitor!"

"Me?" he asked in mock-shock.

"And you wonder where Lot gets her dramatics from…"

"Hello - Grandma genes," Lorelai interrupted, causing Logan to shoot his wife an 'I-told-you-so' look.

Rory leaned back in the soft couch as Lorelai and Logan continued to banter. She smiled at the thought of her Wedding Reenactment tomorrow. It was her favorite Stars Hallow tradition. She glanced over and saw Luke playing blocks with Lottie and she let out a content sigh. It was good to be home.

* * *

_It's good to be back! I know it's a little short, a lot fluffy and writing a two-year old is hard. Since I love Stars Hallow, we'll stick around for the Wedding Reenactment next chapter before the 'real-world' starts. Okay, if you've missed this story: review! _


	2. Reenacted Wedding Bliss

**It feel like I'm neglecting this and I feel awful since I was so jazzed to see that so many people were happy about the sequel. I know I am! **

**I write so much drama and relationship crap (is it bad that I just called my own writing topic crap?) that I forget how much fun it is to write fun, fluffy stuff. And, let me just warn you – this stuff is so sweet it'll make your teeth rot! It's still a little on the short side, but I don't want to get too carried away. **

**Hope you enjoy reading just as much as I have had writing it! **

**Disclaimer: ASP is not me. **

**PS: How awesome that ABC Family airs Gilmore re-runs? I had no idea. Before today, I hadn't seen a GG episode in over a year and just my luck it's the proposal episode. Sad. Anyway, this chapter is seriously fluffy.**

* * *

Rory woke up to the sound of loud voices and happy laughter. She waited a few moments, before opening her eyes and meeting her husbands sleeping form. Rolling over, she spotted Lottie's crib in the corner and was grateful that her little one was still blissfully sleeping. Rory couldn't deny that Lorelai's short-lived home makeover kick that inspired her childhood bedroom to be refurbished as the official guestroom put a smile on her face. At least now the Huntzberger couple were guaranteed a stay in a real bed instead of the legendary trundle.

Rory untangled herself from Logan's loving grip, letting him have a much deserved sleep-in, while she set off in search of a cup of Hot Delicious Coffee. She opened the door and watched in awe at the madhouse breakfast that unfolded in front of her.

The original wedding party plus husbands, wives and children that were excluded from the wedding party all gathered in the kitchen of Rory's childhood home. Kirk and Lulu – the official reenacting couple – were standing in the corner, both hunched over their notebooks, adding to the pages and pages of Rogan qualities they had collected over the years.

"I thought you said we'd meet everyone at the Dragonfly?" Rory called out over the crowd as she stood there, leaning in the doorway.

"I did," Lorelai called from the other side of the room. She raised her signature Spice Girls coffee mug at her husband, "but Luke and his pancakes are here!"

"Hey!" Sookie yelled, taking a plate of pancakes from Luke, "Mine are just as good!"

"You didn't hear me say otherwise," Luke told Sookie, before whipping his head around and pointing at Finn, "Get that bottle away from the batter!"

The Australian was busy unscrewing a bottle of an aged something or other. "This is an authentic recipe…really, all it takes is a splash. It's an Aussie Specialty…" he tried to convince the diner owner, but he simply frowned.

"Vegemite is too and we don't want that either," Lane interjected, earning a heartfelt laugh from the gathering. Kirk raising his voice brought the noise to a halt. "Could you repeat that? I couldn't hear it...veggies?"

"Vegemite, mate!" Finn answered Kirk with laugh. "Lorelai?" he craned his neck and his eyes glistened with hope as he spotted his favorite mother.

"No Finn, I don't have Vegemite."

Rory chuckled, still following the events from the sidelines. She watched as her Dad carefully distributed pancakes to all of the kids. It did her good that he was making the most of his second chance, only dating sporadically and functioning as somewhat of a male nanny to Steve and Kwan and Davey, Martha and Ruby, Sookie and Jackson's final addition. She stole a glance at Stephanie, Colin, Lane and Zach standing in the corner chitchatting as Honor and Josh looked on seriously as Paris and Doyle explained the finer points of what Rory recognized as Krav Maga.

As eclectic as her group of friends was, they all meshed together and formed one big happy family, still it was too crowded and cluttered for her to engage in any type of conversation. She enjoyed the show – it was certainly different from the quiet home life she lead with Logan and Lottie.

"What are you watching?" His raspy morning voice sent a shiver down her spine and her hand immediately went to her hip, where she grabbed hold of his. She looked up and brushed a light kiss on his lips.

"Morning, Ace."

"Morning." She let herself lean back into his chest, "If you want a virgin pancake you'll have to act fast. Finn's tired spiking the batter four times in fifteen minutes."

She felt a rumble of laughter in his chest. "With what?"

"Everything in Lorelai's wet bar. Mostly vodka, I suspect."

"Well, you can take the vodka away from the boy, but you can't take the boy away from the vodka…"

"That doesn't make any sense," Rory said with a smile.

"That's just because you haven't had any coffee yet." He kissed the top of her head, keeping her in a close hug, before looking up and spotting Lorelai in the crowd. "Got coffee?"

Lorelai flashed her son-in-law a smile, "Sure do. Luke!"

"What?"

"Coffee, babe." She shimmied her way down to Luke and snaked an arm around his waist and started bobbing her head around. "Got to have the coffee."

He glanced down at her. "Are you dancing?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I think I can?"

"Oh come on, Lorelai," Stephanie said laughing, grabbing another plate of pancakes, "You've got to have a better reference in there…"

"I do, but I'm severely deprived…"

"Alright, alright," Luke wiped his hands on the dishrag and handed his wife a large stack of Styrofoam cups and a big thermos of coffee. "Coffee. Cups. Distribute first."

She nodded that she understood, before taking the giant thermos from Luke. "Hello, first love. How I've missed you…"

"Do you think they'll be any left by the time she get to us?" Logan whispered in Rory's ear.

"Doesn't only daughter sort of imply first dibs on the goods?" Rory questioned out loud, but Logan quickly pointed out the truth.

Lorelai had started on the other side of the room, dispensing coffee in a 'one for you, one for me' fashion. There was no way they'd get coffee on the first round; however, Lottie's sudden crying meant that they probably wouldn't have gotten it anyway.

"Hey Nessie, what's wrong?" Logan asked softly, lifting the toddler from her crib. Her little arms found their way around his neck and the crying subsided almost instantly.

"I've taught you well, little one," Rory said with a grin, pressing a light kiss on her daughters nose. "Remember these skills when you are older and I'm the one saying no to the four hundred dollar boots you really, really, really need to have..."

"Oh stop," Logan warned playfully, lifting his little girl high above his head, "she won't want any of that stuff..."

"Hello, Logan?" Lorelai asked, suddenly appearing in the doorway. "You do realize she's a Gilmore, right? And Gilmores of all ages, shapes and sizes like pretty, shiny and expensive things. And clothes."

"Accessories," Rory added thoughtfully. Logan didn't even bother with a witty remark, as he knew he was defenseless against the mother-daughter combination. He feared the day Lottie was old enough to comprehend what her mother and grandmother were talking about as a mother-daughter-granddaughter banter session would be too crazy to handle. Amusing, certainly, but crazy all the same.

"Movies with excellent mocking potential." Rory nodded in agreement and continued, "books. We like books."

"Shoes," Lorelai continued, "and junk food. Burgers and fries specifically."

Rory pointed at her daughter, "Blocks and Dora, too."

"Music, " Lorelai added. "Eighties music."

"And TV!"

"Are we forgetting anything?" Lorelai asked, gesturing to her daughter.

"Coffee!"

"Oh yes!" she exclaimed, proudly holding up the thermos. "I've saved you some!"

* * *

Later that afternoon, the party had relocated itself to the towns square where the people of Stars Hallow were busy adding the final touches to the décor and the wedding party had left Rory, Logan, Lottie, and the other children so that they could prepare for the reenactment.

"Rory!" Gigi tugged on Rory's skirt. "Davey, Steve and Kwan won't share the ball with Martha, Ruby and me!"

"They won't?" Rory looked down at her sister, before fixing her gaze on the three rambunctious boys, who were busy practicing drop-kicking the ball.

"Why don't you girls play with the jump rope?" Logan suggested, but Gigi shot him an unimpressed glare.

"We want to play with the ball, Logan!" A soft chuckle escaped his lips and he gestured at his wife, essentially letting her deal with the group of unhappy children.

Rory handed baby Henry, Honor's son, to Logan and stood up, taking Gigi and Ruby by the hand, with Martha trailing close behind.

"Hi guys," she said, approaching the group, "Why don't you let the girls play ball with you?"

Davey hugged the plastic beach ball to his chest. "Because they can't play!"

"We too can!" Martha shot back.

"No you can't," Steve and Kwan argued. A tense moment passed between all the children, but Rory's stern look eventually caused Davey to relent. Sighing deeply, he suggested they just played catch and everyone agreed happily.

"Play nice," she warned, and she walked back to her grinning husband with a satisfied smile on her face.

"Good job," Logan told her, though she shook her head. "Honestly, I don't know how Lane does it. Play dates and all that crap…"

"You are a natural," Logan told her and a crooked smile appeared on her face. "That as it may be, Lottie will just have to be a well-adjusted anti-social child. She'll just have to make do with Henry, it'll be fine!"

The smirk on her face let Logan know she was joking, but he couldn't help bring a little seriousness to their conversation. "What about a brother or sister to keep Lot company?"

Rory's fingers played with the hairs on the back of his neck as she shot him a thoughtful smile. She turned away after a few seconds and pulled her happily babbling daughter off the grassy patch in front of her and sat her down on her lap. "One day, Logan, one day," she told him, though it wasn't the enthusiastic tone he was hoping to hear.

It was really a sweet moment, what with Rory and Logan, both with child on their lap, chitchatting about their future while keeping a watchful eye on the rest of the children, which Babbette broke as her hoarse tone cut through the square.

"Sugar, get the kids! Paris is going to blow a gasket if we don't start in five minutes and Lorelai is afraid Kirk might spill something on that snazzy suit…."

Logan watched Lottie and Henry while Rory rounded up the rest of the children and supplied them all with a personal cup of now-traditional pink popcorn and pink lemonade. She grabbed a pink lemonade for herself and a glass of Miss Patty's punch for Logan together with a big bowl of popcorn for them to share.

* * *

As if on cue, the sun dipped under and the white lights hanging from the trees glowed brightly, giving the towns square a wintery feel, even though it was the middle of summer. The towns members, who were all dressed in whites and pinks, keeping in line with the original dress code, found their seats and the curtain opened to reveal a glowing Lorelai.

"Well, well," Lorelai's voice boomed through the microphone, "It's seems that Rory and Logan have started their own little daycare!"

Lorelai waited a beat, resting her hand in the kangaroo pocket of her bright pink track suit as laughter flitted through the crowd.

"Even as that may be," she continued, "I'm still taking bets on when grand-chicken number two will arrive, though he or she will have to call me Glama as that is what sweet pea over there has crowned me!"

The townspeople of Stars Hallow clapped and cheered as Logan shot Rory a look. "That's twice a sibling for Lot has come up in the past twenty minutes."

"Shut up," Rory laughed, playfully swatting Logan's resting hand off her thigh.

"Well," Lorelai sighed deeply. "I just wanted to thank-you all for making this Stars Hallow's most treasured tradition – please thank Kirk for that statistic."

She paused and shook her champagne flute around, as another round of laughter emerged from the audience.

"Oh. Paris is giving me that scary look. Okay – grab your popcorn, take some of Patty's magical punch and please join me in welcoming the winners of Reenactment Idol, the lovely Miss Lulu and talented Mr. Kirk in the wonderful reenactment of Logan and Rory's wedding!"

Lorelai scurried off stage as the townspeople applauded loudly. Rory shot Logan a quick smile. "It doesn't get old, does it?"

"It just gets better," Logan told her as he stole a quick look at his wife, daughter and nephew. The spotlight refocused on the gazebo and the pink curtains opened, illuminating Kirk standing in the middle of the stage in the same midnight blue suit with silver vest Logan had been wearing all those years ago.

"What did I miss?" Lorelai asked in a whisper, taking her seat next to her daughter.

"Same as every year," Rory quipped back, passing her mom the popcorn tub. "Kirk is just standing there…"

Logan shushed them in mock-agitation. "Excuse me, ladies. I'm trying to add a little culture in my brood's life, so…" He placed his index finger over his smirking lips.

Rory could dream the Wedding Reenactment by now, so instead she watched the kids faces light up as they watched the flames on the path of silvery and dark blue candles danced softly in the wind. She knew they felt the same sense of magic she had felt that cold winter night at Lumley Castle.

"Colin, Luke, Christopher – they are waiting for you." Paris's sharp tone never failed to bring her back to reality. Logan squeezed her hand gently. "We've still got the best friends."

She nodded softly as she watched the now-familiar scene unfold before her. The townspeople still laughed as Office Gellar examined the boys for the wedding and awing as the music swelled and Christopher and Luke walked Lulu-Rory down the aisle. Finn marrying Kirk-Logan and Lulu-Rory was a touching moment and Rory knew that she wasn't the only one with tears in her eyes. She felt Logan's eyes on her as Kirk stumbled through his part of the vows and Rory shifted her view to her real-life husband and whispered her carefully written vows to him.

The couple stole a quick, but loving kiss which went unnoticed by the crowd, since their attention was focused Finn who was about to speak those all-important words.

"You may kiss the bride."

The townspeople got up from their seats and started clapping and cheering as Kirk placed a tender kiss on Lulu's lips. Logan and Rory got up as well, and were pushed towards the stage.

"That was amazing," Logan spoke into the microphone, as Rory stood next to him with Lottie balanced on her hip.

"Rory and I would just like to thank-you all once again for letting us celebrate our wedding in such a spectacular way each year. It means the world to us – we agree completely with Kirks' statistics!"

"Give us a kiss, sugar!" Babette yelled from the crowed, followed by Miss Patty. "Yeah, show us how the real Huntzberger's do it!"

Rory and Logan smiled stupidly at each other, for now this had become part of the tradition. They changed the kisses up, though. Last year, they'd gotten really into it, but the year before that he pressed a gentlemanly kiss on the back of her hand. This time, Logan placed a hand on the small of Rory's back, pulling her in ever so slightly, before slowly tilting her head up with his index finger and kissed into her deliriously happy smile.

* * *

An appropriately outrageous after-party followed as soon as the children had been put to bed. Luke was glad to take on babysitting duties for the night. Like every year, Rory, Logan and the rest of the gang found a quiet tale to sit at.

"Excellent performance, yet again," Logan told his assembly of friends as he stirred his cup of punch. "Are you sure you don't want any punch, Ace?"

"I've told you about the horrors of the punch," she said, stealing a glance at Paris and Lane, both whom still knew the exact dangers of Patty's punch.

"Hello loves," Finn greeted the group happily as he set down a fresh tray of drinks, pink popcorn and other delicious treats Sookie cooked-up. "This pink corn gets better every year, doesn't it?"

"You know what else gets better every year? " Miss Patty sashayed by, dragging Finn along by his tie. The men were practically doubled over in laughter; their amusement only enhanced by the punch.

"Will he ever learn?" Colin asked though Jacksons answer was less sympathetic. "We warned him the first year…"

This comment earned another round of deafening laughs from the men.

"No more punch," Lane warned Zach. "You've got work…" She stopped herself midsentence. "Oh my god. I sound like Mama Kim." She dropped her head in denial.

"I remember my first time," Lorelai said, reminiscing. "Sucks when that happens…"

"Not for Rory," Stephanie said, "She's going to morph into you!"

Lorelai whipped her head around, feigning a stern look at her daughter. "Yes. This is correct. So, I don't ever want to hear any complaining from you, missy."

Rory laughed, though it quickly turned into a yawn. "I know, Mom. Got a cool Mom. Can't complain."

"You are no fun when you're tired," Lorelai wined and Rory simply shrugged. "The book, Lottie, running my own daycare with Logan…"

The women at the table shared a smile – Rory needn't elaborate; they knew. They spent another few more moments chitchatting, but soon the excitement of the day began to play on all of them.

"Hey, babe?" Rory asked, reaching over the table for Logan's hand. The men were engaged in a serious discussion about something she couldn't quite make out, but Logan's attention differed at his wife's touch.

"Yes?"

"I'm going to head back with Mom, but you stay if you want…"

"I'll go."

"You sure?"

He nodded and Rory couldn't help the smile that appeared on her face. Huntzberger may have been a drinking champion in during his college days, but tonight, more than ever, made it clear that those days were long behind them.

"Yeah."

Rory, Stephanie, Honor, Paris, Sookie and Lane all helped their guys' to their feet, each couple heading off in their own direction. Tomorrow would mark the end of their Stars Hallow getaway and that was sad fact indeed.

Looping her arm around his waist, Rory and Logan slowly walked back to the house. "You know, I love Stars Hallow," Logan said, tracing abstract figures in Rory's back. "I love you."

It was dark, so Logan couldn't see the smile that appeared on Rory's face as she told him that she loved him too. This moment was a bubble of pure bliss. She wished she could freeze it and stay here forever.

* * *

_And there you go. I made up that Sookie's baby was a girl and called Ruby, since that birth never played out in the show. Henry is Honor and Josh's son. _

_I kept the Wedding pretty close to NYN's version, because I liked that one a lot. I really tried to show a shift in the relationships (i.e. family focused) but it won't be all after-school-special the whole way through. Also, notice the hinting at babies. Plot development? Perhaps. Let me know what you think! Much Love. _


	3. Messy Mondays

**Thank you all for the awesome reviews! I know I've been doing an absolutely lousy job at my summer fanfiction "job", but then again, I'm the boss. Still, I'll do better, at least I'll try :) Meanwhile, if you are really hurting for some Rogan goodness and I'm off lazing around at the beach you might want to check out revchick_86's "Repairing the Break". Fabulous story and regular updates! **

**Our favorite family of three leave the Hallow and fall back into the swing of things in New York. Rory meets with Bee, and it will be a little obvious I haven't the slightest clue about book promotions (if any of you do, PM and give me some inside scoop to make it more realistic) so I've remained pretty vague as to what. Oh, you all seem to be anxious to hear the pitter patter of little feet (specifically, a boy who must be named Nick!) so I'll let you read on to see if we tackle that delicate matter in this chapter….**

**Much love and summer sun!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own GG.**

* * *

Rory had never particularly been fond of Mondays, but this one was really taking the cake. Of course, her meeting with Bee had to be scheduled on a Monday, and of course, this morning she had to spill coffee on her freshly pressed white blouse, create an enormous run in her pantyhose and misplace practically every make-up item she needed. Meanwhile, the clock was ticking and she had precisely fifteen mintues to drop Lottie off at Logan's office and race across town to meet Bridget for their meeting. And, of course, because this was an extra special Monday, she was missing a shoe.

"Come on, Lottie, think!" she exclaimed, now wearing white slacks and a navy blue ruffle shirt, "Where did Mommy put her other shoe?"

She held up a navy-colored Nine West pump, giving her daughter a few seconds to examine it, while she kept an eye on the clock. Only fourteen minutes to go.

Lottie stuck out her bottom lip in thought, before finally deciding on the missing shoe's location. "Chair."

"The chair?"

The young girl pointed in the direction of the lounge chair in the corner of the room and Rory scooped her up and carried her there. "Why would I keep my shoe here?" Rory asked out loud.

Lottie simply shrugged, but sure enough, Rory found the missing pump under the chair. She laughed at the pleased smirk on her child's face. "You are more like your Daddy every day, girlie." Rory pressed a quick kiss in Lot's hair, before mentally running through her list.

The shoes completed her new look and save for a smear of lipstick and a sprits of hairspray she was ready for the meeting. Her tote was filled with every possible work document she could need and Lottie's bag was filled to the brim with toys, books, juice boxes and crackers. Rory had no clue what Logan had planned for their father-daughter afternoon, but the bag's contents was suffice for a fun afternoon. All she needed to do was put Lottie in the stroller and they were off.

She glanced around her bedroom, only to find Lottie standing on the bench of her vanity, curiously pulling open every drawer and haphazardly tossing out the contents. Lipstick tubes, make-up brushes, mirrors, necklaces and bracelets littered the floor and Lottie gave her frowning mother a guilty, yet satisfied look.

"Charlotte Lorelai Huntzberger!" Rory scolded, but stopped at she caught the time. Five minutes to make it to Logan's office. It was Lottie's lucky day as she was spared a further telling-off. Instead, Rory stepped over the mess, leaving it for what it was and picked up the toddler, strapped her in the stroller and rushed out the door.

* * *

Panting slightly, Rory joined the crowed of business people who were trying to shuffle through the revolving doors and into the Huntzberger Publishing building. For once, she was grateful for the slow pace since it gave her a spare minute to wipe the sweat off her brow and twirl her hair up in a bun, making herself the tiniest bit presentable for her husband. She'd fix the rest of the damage the two block walk did to her look in the cab to her appointment with Bee.

"Hey, Ace!"

Rory looked up and immediately maneuvered away from the elevators and towards her husband. She hadn't expecting him to be waiting for her.

"Am I that late?" she asked, trying to steer the stroller and look at her watch at the same time. "What time is it?"

"Almost noon," he chuckled, pulling her in for a kiss. "I just thought I'd meet you ladies down here…"

"…because you knew I'd be late?"

Logan stayed suspiciously quiet as he knelt down to unclip Lottie from her stroller and picked her up. "Hey Ace?" he asked, trying to hide his amusement.

"What?" She answered distracted since she was trying to untangle her tote from the stroller bars.

"Did you mean to dress Ness in pajamas?"

"What?" This time she looked up and indeed – Lottie was still clad in her pink and white daisy PJ's. It was a short and T-shirt set which didn't look terribly out of place in the middle of summer, but they were pajamas none the less.

"Oh crap," Rory sighed, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "I'm so sorry, Logan. I don't know how I forgot, but this morning… I just…" she raised her hands to illustrate her hectic morning, "I spilled coffee, lost my shoes, broke my favorite lipstick and Miss Lottie here got into my vanity and now our room looks like Harry Winston and Sephora tried to duke it out…"

Logan's chuckling stopped Rory's apologetic rambling. "It sounds like you girls had a trying morning." He pulled Rory in for a hug. "Don't worry about it, okay?"

She pulled away from his embrace to nod, but she wasn't quite ready to leave the warmth of his hold just yet.

"I know you are nervous about this, but you'll do just fine. You are already published, remember?" Logan whispered in her ear.

Rory inhaled deeply, letting his words sink in. It was just a lunch after all; but she hadn't been this excited and nervous about something in a long time. Her book was really happening.

She nodded slowly, looking up to meet his gaze. "It's just finally here, you know?"

Logan's tender smile was enough for her to know that he knew exactly what she meant.

"You've got to get going, Ace… Don't worry about little Lottie and me, we'll be fine…." He looked at his daughter, "right, sweet heart?"

The little girl nodded excitedly causing both Rory and Logan to laugh. "Just stay out of trouble," Rory pressed a kiss on her daughter's cheek. "Mommy loves you."

Lottie smiled and gave her mom a messy kiss. "Okay."

Rory turned to Logan for one last reassuring embrace. "Thank-you."

"For what, Ace?" he asked, resting his head on top of hers.

"For taking Lottie, for calming me down…"

"Anytime, Ace, anytime. Now go. I don't want you being more than fashionably late!"

* * *

Rory stepped into the crowded restaurant just over fifteen minutes late and spotted Bee's perfectly coifed head of curly blonde hair immediately.

"Oh, Bridget, I'm so sorry I'm late…"

"Family related issues?" Bee asked, looking up from her menu.

"Yes…"

"Honey, I love you, but I could care less about, you know, Lottie eating your lipstick or whatever." Bee cut Rory off with a hearty laugh, though the surprise etched on Rory's face was enough to garner another rumble of laughter from her.

"She did not?" Bridget asked, her curls shaking widely, in tune with the rhythm of her laughter.

"Close…" Rory smiled, shaking her head and sliding in the booth. She was relieved Bridget wasn't making a big deal out of it and her nerves about this meeting subsided instantly as Bee continued to talk.

"Anyway, your fifteen minute delay gave me plenty enough time to check out Potential Date…" She subtlety pointed towards the bar. "Not the blonde – I think he's gay – but him…oh la, la! "

Rory craned her neck slowly and her eyes darted to the Potential Date. Tall, a mop of curly brown hair, a little stubble and, from Rory could tell in this awkward position, a dazzling smile.

"Cute," she voiced her verdict as she stopped eyeing the man. "Maybe he's The One?"

"Please, girl," Bee stirred her ice tea as she burst out in another round of infectious laughter.

The meeting quickly turned from boys and lunch orders to business.

"We ended up going with 25.000 copies. It isn't a giant first run, but it's better to reprint than to pulp," Bridget paused to take a sip of her iced tea, "besides, think of how rare a first edition New York Novel will be…"

Rory shot her a crooked smile, "If we ever sell 25.000 copies!"

"Oh, honey, with an attitude like that we never will! People are excited about this, Ror. We'll get a second print, I'm absolutely positive…"

"I'm just anxious," Rory told Bridget, "I want it to do well."

"Me too. I've got a good feeling about it, and we'll know for sure by Wednesday…."

Rory's smile grew at Bridget's confidence. "Promo in Philly, right?"

"Yes ma'am. Four bookstores, one local TV-station and an interview with a local paper. Then we are hitting Boston, Providence, Hartford and Manhattan…" Bridget stabbed a tomato with her fork and pointed it at Rory, "Better start preparing your interview answers!"

Rory nodded, but she didn't tell Bee she had a notebook full of answers to every possible question interviewers could ask. "And after the tour?"

"That depends," Bridget said. "We'll get the first reviews by the time we're hitting Hartford, so we might consider tacking on two or three weeks and hit the west coast…."

Rory flipped through the pages of her datebook and frowned slightly.

"Don't make that face, Rory…" Bridget warned

"It's Lottie's birthday. I need to be home. There would have to be a day or two between the tacking on…."

Bee's face pulled into a grin. "You are too much, you know that?" she laughed, "but alright. I'll baby proof the schedule for my star writer…"

"Thank-you from the bottom of my Nine West heeled feet," Rory joked, clinking her coffee mug with Bee's glass.

"You know, with your kind of money you could be strutting around here on Louboutins…. " Rory shrugged as Bee carried on chit-chatting, "I wonder if we'll meet any cute guys during our travels.…."

"What about him?" Rory asked, jerking her head in the direction of the bar.

"He's got potential," Bee acknowledged with a sly smile, before snapping her fingers as if she remembered something important. "Do you happen to have a tampon in your gigantic purse?" she asked, lowering her typically loud voice into a whisper.

"Sure," Rory nodded and fished a little make-up bag from her purse and handed it to Bridget. "There's some Midol in there, too…"

"Fancy," she laughed, taking the bag. "I'll be right back. You are an absolute lifesaver."

Rory shook her head as she watched Bridget make eyes at the cute waiter before heading to the ladies. She really was too much, but in a completely good way. She knew they'd have a ton of fun out on the tour and it did her well that Bridget was so confident about their endeavor.

It'd be difficult to leave Logan and Lottie behind for five days, but as Bee reminded her so many times, it was only five days and they were close enough to race home, if needed. She glanced over the notes written in the margins one last time, before flicking back a few pages.

Her breath caught as she realized that something was noticeably absent. Rory flipped back another couple of pages and there it was, the tiny sad face she drew next to the day her period started. Rory silently counted the days as she flipped the pages forward again until she reached today's date.

She knew she didn't forget to draw the sad face, just as she knew there was an unopened box of tampons under the bathroom sink. Come to think of it, the strip of Midol in her purse was unused, too!

Sighing heavily, she counted the days one last time, hoping that her count would be different this time as math was never a strong suit, but her fingers never lied. She was ten days late.

"I got his number," Bridget announced happily as she returned from the ladies. "He wants to get drinks tomorrow night…"

"Congratulations," Rory said, distraction still evident in her tone.

"What's up, Ror?" Bridget asked, concern taking over. "I leave you alone for five minutes and you manage to freak out… don't do it girlie, this tour will be amazing!"

" I know," Rory assured her, slowly pushing her missing period to the back of her mind, "I was just thinking about.. .stuff."

"Little green monster?" Bridget joked, winking at the Potential Date. "I can imagine."

Rory let out a heartfelt laugh. "Not in the slightest. You know how hot my husband is," she couldn't help but smile as her ring caught the sunlight and sparkled.

"Sure he is, but you've got that honking piece of jewelry weighing you down," she quipped back.

* * *

Rory was relieved the meeting ended soon after that since her attempts at redirecting her thoughts weren't working. She was tuned into her body, instead of Bridget, waiting for a cramp, ache or some other indication to sneak-up on her and tell her that her lady friend hadn't gone missing, but was right here, right now!

But, in reality, she couldn't remember the last time she had actually felt those symptoms so it wasn't very likely she'd be curling up in bed with a box of chocolate this afternoon. She realized it was actually more likely she wouldn't see that time of the month for a good nine months as she had an insatiable appetite for Logan, and this was the only area he exceeded her appetite.

She grabbed her cell, but stuffed it back in her bag. Calling him wouldn't help one bit, she decided and headed for the drugstore instead.

* * *

"Ace?" Logan called to the seemingly empty apartment. He hadn't heard from her all afternoon, which was a little unexpected since he completely lost track of time at the zoo with Lottie, meaning that they were very late for dinner. Surely, Rory would have called to find out where they were!

He switched on the lights in the living room and put Lottie down in her play pen and headed for the bedroom.

"Ace?" The room was dark, but a light peeked out from under the bathroom door. Logan gently knocked on the door. "Rory? You in there?"

He heard her blow her nose and he only grew more concerned. "What happened, Ace?" he asked, running his hand to the door knob, feeling if it was locked, "Rory?"

Rory blew her nose a few more times, before she shuffled over and unlocked the bathroom door, revealing the mess she had made of the place.

Logan's eyes widened in surprise as his gaze shifted from her tear-streaked face to a stack of pregnancy tests, a mug of coffee and a half-eaten box of Godiva chocolates and back to her distraught face again. Her hair had fallen out of its bun and her make-up was smeared as a result of her excessive crying. She had exchanged her professional look of this morning for a pair of his boxers and a black camisole and fuzzy socks.

He was too stunned to talk so he just looked at her questioningly. Rory blinked back a few more tears, before turning on her heal and reclaiming her seat on the ground, with her back against the tub, waiting for the latest result as she bit into another chocolate, leaving him standing there in the doorway.

After a few moments he snapped out of it and entered the bathroom. "What happened, Rory?"

"I'm not pregnant," she cried, holding up the tiny plastic stick.

He dropped to his knees and reached for her hand. "It's okay, Ace. We aren't even really trying… it'll happen one day…." Logan kissed the back of her hand, "It'll happen."

"I just don't get it…" she frowned, leaning in. Logan's heart broke and he brushed a kiss on Rory's temple. "These things happen for a reason…"

Rory let herself get caught up in his sweet scent for a moment, before she realized that he was totally missing the point.

"But if I'm not pregnant I should be on my period," she told him as she leaned back out of their embrace. "No, I should have been done with it and been gearing up for the next…"

Logan shot her an disbelieving look. They might be soul mates, but that still didn't mean he could keep up with her sudden mood swings. "I don't follow…"

"I'm ten days late!" She stood up, stuck out her stomach and pointed at it. "No cramps, no bloating, no nothing." She frantically waved her hands over her stomach. "Nothing's happening. It's dead in there and it just disappeared."

Logan swallowed, not sure what to make of the situation. "Haven't you been late before?" he tried, wincing.

"Once!" She raised her hands to the sky, "And that was Lottie!"

"Well…" Logan sighed, feeling slightly uncomfortable about all the talk about women-troubles.

"What if it doesn't come back?" Rory asked, growing more distraught. "What will we do?"

"I don't know… maybe you are pregnant?"

Rory stopped her frenzied pacing to raise her eyebrows at him. "Twelve tests don't lie, Logan," she said, gesturing to the stack of boxes piled on the counter.

"You tried twelve?" he asked, not trying to hide his amusement.

"I bought one first and I didn't believe it, so I went back out and got some more…" she admitted sheepishly.

"Twelve."

"It seemed like a good statistical sample," she shrugged, "and I got a box of chocolates, too."

"Right," he nodded, watching as Rory let herself sink back to the floor. He grabbed her foot and started to rub it. "Do you want to go to the doctor to be sure? We can schedule an appointment right now."

Rory waited a beat, before letting out a deep sigh. "No. I'm not pregnant. I'm just… oh god, maybe I'm pre-menopausal?"

"You are not menopausal, Rory," Logan said firmly. "It'll come back."

She turned to look at him and a smile played at her lips. He really was the best husband. Standing here in a sea of plastic sticks and talking about her cycle – something that he was obviously uncomfortable with – earned him major points. And, what's more, he was right. She knew she wasn't pregnant; the tests didn't confirm it, her intuition did and he was right. It would return.

"I'm sorry, babe," she sighed, before pressing a light kiss on his cheek. "I freaked-out."

"It's okay; it's been a while…"

"Hey!" she playfully swatted his knee, but quickly found her niche and rested her head on his shoulder. They sat there in silence as Logan rubbed comforting circles on her back.

"It would have been nice, though," Logan said thoughtfully, breaking the silence.

"What? Aunt Flo?"

"No," he laughed, "If you were pregnant…"

Rory pulled back and shot him a quizzical look. "I guess."

"You guess?" Logan asked, instantly picking up on her less-than-enthusiastic comment.

"Uh, yeah." She ran a hand through her hair. "I mean, it's not perfect timing, you know, what with the campaign and, you know, Bee said if we were successful on the east coast, we'd head out west for a couple, three weeks…"

Logan's face hardened and he dropped Rory's hand from his. "When?"

"After Lottie's birthday, depending on the reviews."

"No, when were you going to tell me you don't want another baby?" All the compassion had left his tone; it was urgent and accusatory.

Rory's eyes widened. "But I do want a baby!"

"You seem pretty relieved that all of these tests are negative!"

"It's not the right time!" she tried to explain, but Logan wasn't hearing it. "Lottie wasn't planned either!"

"That was different!"

"How so?"

"How so?!" Rory asked in disbelief, "Are you serious?"

"I'm just asking," he said slowly, with a false calmness in his tone, "what would be so bad if you were pregnant now?"

"A million things!" she yelled back, "I can't even believe you have to ask, Logan! I was sick for half of the pregnancy – how'd I manage that on the tour?"

"What tour?" he scoffed, "It's four days!"

"Right now. Bee thinks it's going to be a huge hit. If it doe blow up, I'll be travelling…."

Logan remained quiet, instead of shouting back, which immediately planted doubt in Rory's mind. "You don't think it's going to be big?"

He sighed. "I didn't say that Rory."

"But you thought it," she snapped.

"Are you sure you aren't on your period? 'Cause you are acting crazy!"

"You lied to me, Logan! I get to be crazy!" she shot back, hotly.

"You lied to me, too!" he raised his voice for the first time in their argument, "You acted like you wanted the chance of a baby. You didn't go back on the Pill. You didn't put condoms on the grocery list… and now you turn around and say that it's not the right time!"

Rory locked her eyes to his and saw that he genuinely felt a sense of betrayal. Perhaps she had been leading him on, but truth was it wasn't the right time for a baby and now that they were in a situation they could manipulate to their benefit, Rory fully planned on using it.

"I'm going to go back on the Pill," she told him slowly and he opened his mouth to voice his argument once more. "I want to have another baby, Logan. I want Lottie to have a sibling, I really do, but just not right now, okay?" She rested her flat palm against his chest, which he took almost instantly.

"Promise?" he asked, looking at her hand instead of her.

Rory bit her bottom lip – you promise to make coffee, not a child – but she bit her swallowed her negative thoughts.

"I do."

* * *

_And so the drama begins. Hope you aren't too upset, but you have to understand this plot has been with me since chapter twenty of New York Night. And things happened in that story that you weren't all too thrilled about and that all worked out in the end, right? Still, I'm dying to find out what you think and I take everything in to consideration, so don't be bashful. Let me hear it !! _

_Also, don't worry, Rory not getting her period isn't some dramatic hinting that she'll get sick or anything of the sort. Sometimes it happens. _

_Don't forget to review! Please :) _


	4. And So It Begins

**A cool, sunny Sunday evening marks the end of my summer break. Tomorrow I begin with the first day of my last year as a college student. **

**I'm trying not to think about it. **

**In excellent news, Dutch TV started with re-runs of Gilmore Girls and my schedule allows me to be home at 5 pm to watch them! **

**Sorry updates were so random this summer – I'll try to be better about it throughout fall and winter. Thank-you all for sticking with me for so long (and on so many stories!). It really amazes me and I love you for it! **

**It took me the better part of the week to write this chapter (which is not my usual style. Normally, I sit for a good couple of hours and write) and I'm not sure if I like the outcome, but it takes the story in the direction I want it to go, so I'll sit here and patiently await your verdict! **

**Hope your last days of summer are filled with sun and fun! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own GG. **

* * *

A weird, faint tension filled the Huntzberger penthouse after Monday night's promise of a new life. Logan seemed content enough with their compromise, Rory was the one who shied away from their typical evening traditions.

She sought solace in her writing room and left Logan to read Lottie a bedtime story. She didn't join him later for some their usual conversation, snacks and a movie. It wasn't until he knocked on her door, asking if she was okay, that she granted him an apologetic smile, blaming last-minute tour things for her absence, and followed him into the bedroom.

And, yes, the excitement and pressures of the tour took up a great deal of her thoughts. After all, HPG's future as a literary publishing house and by extension, her career as an author, depended heavily on the outcome of this tour. Not to mention, she was concerned about leaving her baby girl and husband behind for the first significant amount of time, but it wasn't all.

No, what dominated her thoughts the most was her promise. A baby. To guarantee a child. In theory, she definitely wanted to add to her offspring. Practically speaking, though, she wasn't so sure if she could. Her period had yet to make its highly anticipated appearance and no matter how relaxed she tried to be about its sudden departure, she couldn't. For a girl who was never late, eleven days seemed like a lifetime and she couldn't help but wonder what would happen if it never made its return.

Sure, she'd never have to worry about planning days to the beach, and she certainly wouldn't miss the bloating, but she'd never be able to make good on her promise; she couldn't give him want he wanted the most…

Early Wednesday morning, those thoughts ebbed ever so slightly, as the "New York Night" book tour took precedence in her mind.

Logan had surprised her with coffee and pancakes in bed. Together, they enjoyed their breakfast, falling into their same old trusted, casual, comfortable banter. He offered to put the dishes in the washer and wake up Lottie, giving Rory the chance to pack the last things before Bridget would arrive.

And that's how Rory found herself standing before her open suitcase early Wednesday morning, a mug of coffee in hand. She had everything she needed. Laptop, pants, blazers, blouses, panties, bras, make-up, PJ's, a book, notebook and a box of tampons.

Just in case.

It was a nice box made up of sturdy light blue cardboard with swirly white letters gracing the front and it promised 360 degree protection. Rory picked it up and studied it carefully, not really sure what she was looking for, though she couldn't shake the feeling that some sort of cruel joke was being played on her.

She turned her head at the slight tap on the door and saw Logan standing there in the doorway.

"Bridget just called; she'll be here in fifteen minutes."

"Okay," Rory nodded with a vacant smile and dropped the box in her suitcase. It landed on a stack of blouses, causing them to slide out of the suitcase and onto the bed.

"Crap," she muttered and Logan quickly stepped forward to help her re-pack.

"You're sure you don't want to take two bags?" he asked, eyeing the stacks of clothing piled high above the edge of the suitcase.

"No, it's four days." She cocked her head to the side and gestured at the mess on the bed. "Bee said to pack light."

Logan smirked at how his wife defined 'packing light' and handed her the box of tampons together with a pair of socks and a camisole. "This sucks."

"I know! I don't even know how I got so much stuff, but I can't eliminate anything either. What if I spill something on my white shirt? I'll need another…."

He chuckled at her rambling and jutted out his chin to the box that was now in Rory's hand. "I actually meant that…"

"Oh!" she gasped in realization and nodded. Her free hand dropped to her stomach and she frowned.

Logan reached out and brushed her arm. "Are you going to be okay out on the road and everything?"

Her lips curled into a soft smile; his concern never failed to melt her heart. "Yeah, it's just the way it is," she reassured him as she buried the box under a pile of clothes.

Logan nodded as he continued to place the last few items in the bag. "This is it, Ace?" he asked with a vague gesture between his wife and the suitcase.

Rory gave him a short nod, and watched as Logan moved to attempt to close the bag, while she replayed the exchange in her mind. What happened? Since when did she start lying to her husband?

Technically, it wasn't a lie – she just didn't go out of her way to explain that, no, she wasn't on her period, it just up and left without notice and that the box was tagging along simply because she clung on to some hope that someday it would return.

Maybe, she tried reasoning with herself, maybe she was making a bigger deal out of this than it was. Surely, he didn't need to know everything and maybe her drawn out reaction had something to do with hormones, or the stress of going on her first tour had turned her brain into a temporary pile of mush.

"Who's the King of Packing?" Logan's triumphant call drew her from her thoughts. Rory shifted her gaze from the floor, to the closed piece of luggage, finally resting her eyes on her man's cocky grin.

"You," she said through a faint smile, though her acting skills didn't trick him this time as she knew her voice sounded sad and distant.

Logan sighed heavily and stepped forward to embrace her. "I'll miss you, too."

* * *

Bridget entered the apartment with her usual flair. Starbucks coffee in her left hand, a black leather tote dangling from her right. Her curly head of hair was pushed back with a pair of black Dior sunglasses, her make-up flawless and her outfit consisted of black Bermuda shorts, a crisp white blouse tucked in and patent black sky-high stilettos.

"Hello?" she called out as she stepped into the hallway, but the only response came in the form of Lottie's content laughter.

Bee downed the last sip of her coffee drink and placed the empty cup on a side table, before walking into the living room to greet Lottie.

"Why hello L.C.H, where are your Mommy and Daddy?" she asked, towering over the little one's playpen.

"Bedroom."

A smirk appeared on Bridget's face. "Mommy and Daddy are doing a last minute McNasty… dirty!" she chuckled to herself and then she looked down at a curious looking Lottie. "Ah, crap! Don't say that. That's bad… a no-no!"

Lottie raised her pointer finger to her mouth and sucked on it for a moment of contemplation. After a few moments, she apparently agreed with Bridget and raised her arms, indicated that she wanted to be picked up.

"Alright," Bee sighed wearily, "I'll get you out of the cage. No jam-hands, right?"

The young girl kept her big brown eyes fixed on Bee and grinned slightly, looking like a perfect mix of Rory and Logan.

"You make your parents proud, kid," she laughed and picked the toddler up. "Don't spit on this shirt, okay? And don't every say McNasty; your Mom would freak!"

"Mommy is a freak!" Lottie shrieked excitedly. Bridget dropped in head in exasperation. "And this is why I don't have kids!" she muttered to herself.

"Bee!" Rory said, the surprise clear in her tone, "What are you doing here? How'd you get in?"

She gave Rory a welcome smile, glad to know that Rory hadn't heard her previous comments. "Your doorman let me in," she explained, "I told him it was urgent and you know, I slipped him my number…"

"Your number?" Logan interrupted with a laugh.

Bee chuckled at what Logan was implying and shrugged it off, "My number, a number… who needs to get technical?"

Logan shook his head, trying to hold back his laughter while Rory just stared at her friend. Didn't she know what message she was sending out, not to mention that she'll still have to see that doorman every day and field questions about why Bee wasn't the person on the other end of the line….

"Alright, alright, don't look like that, Mom!" Bridget placed her hand on her chest and gave Rory her sincerest look. "I'll never do it again." She flashed a winning smile. "I swear."

Before Rory could say anything else, Bee passed Lot to her. "Say your goodbyes, Rory-girl. We've got to get this promotion show on the road!"

She looked past Rory, to Logan. "I'll get you the deets as soon as possible. Don't want Mitchum to freak-out on you!"

Logan nodded and laughed at her dead-on impression of a freak-out Mitchum face.

"Please do and have fun." His features softened considerably and Bridget rolled her eyes.

"I'll keep an eye on your wife, don't worry!" she laughed and turned on her heel. "I'll be outside. I can tell it's going to get mushy in here!"

The door closed with a bang and Logan turned his attention to his girls. Rory was holding Lottie tightly, and the little girl had her arms wrapped close around her mother's neck.

"Come here, Ace," Logan said softly, wrapping both his girls in his strong embrace. Four days didn't seem like a long time, but it was for the young family that had never been apart for more than a night or two. Logan's business trips never lasted more than a few days and if, on the off-chance they happened to be longer, Rory and Lottie would tag along. With Rory leaving, Logan temporarily gained single-father status and Rory coped with a tiny bit of guilt. She wanted this so much, she worked hard for this and she knew – they knew – touring came with the job, but still...

Logan pressed a kiss on top of Rory's head and carefully took Lottie from her.

"You'll be okay with her?" Rory asked, blinking back a few tears. "She really into Dora now and not Bob the Builder. I got her those crackers she likes and I'll keep my phone on all the time and I'll call my mom to keep hers on, too. So you can call her, if I can't pick up, but you really shouldn't have to call her, because …"

"...because Lottie and I will be fine," Logan told her gently, brushing her cheek with is index finger.

"I know, I know," Rory heaved a heavy sigh. "It's just…" Her eyes darted all over the place, searching for words to continue her train of thought, before landing on his.

"I know, Ace."

He always knew.

"I'm going to miss you," she said.

A faint smirk appeared on his face. "I love you, Ace."

The couple shared a kiss and Logan and Lottie walked Rory to the door and opened it. Bridget was busy chatting away on her Blackberry and motioned for her to hurry up.

Rory gave her husband and daughter a kiss each. "I'll call when I get there."

Logan nodded and waved goodbye. "Wave bye to Mommy, Nessie."

The toddler stuck her chubby arm in the air and waved dramatically. "Bye-bye Mommy freak!"

A surprised laugh escaped Rory as she shot Logan a quizzical look. He shrugged and couldn't help but laugh as Bridget practically pulled Rory away.

"Kids these days…." Bee mumbled with an uncomfortable chuckle, "let's go!"

* * *

"We're going to get into Philadelphia around noon, we'll check into the hotel, grab a bite and interviews start at one-thirty. Those will wrap up around four, which will give us enough time to change and meet with Marcus for dinner before the book signing meet-and-greet event at Barnes & Noble…" Bridget looked up from her black binder of notes and saw Rory staring out of the window.

Rory slowly turned her head away from the landscape and settled on Bee's slightly annoyed looking face.

"Book-signing at BN runs to ten, right?" Rory asked. "And we've got the same in Boston in the afternoon and Providence the next day…."

A slick smile cracked on Bridget's face. For a brief moment she was worried her writing protégé was going to bail, crack under the beginnings of pressure, but she didn't. As Rory spoke, Bee noticed a newfound look of determination on her face.

"That's right," Bee confirmed. "It's a tight schedule, even for my standards, but it'll be worth it. "New York Night" will make it to the number one spot on the best-sellers' list."

Rory met Bridget's comment with an enthusiastic nod. As the car headed towards Philadelphia, it was as if her confidence in this endeavor grew. Her book would be successful, Lottie and Logan would make it through a couple of days without her. All would be right in her world.

"Thinking of success looks good on you," Bridget joked and Rory just rolled her eyes.

"I'm thinking we should trick Marcus into taking us out to Jules' Pizza tonight; their pepperoni is the best!" Bridget continued, "have you been?"

"No," Rory deadpanned, "I normally just get my pizza in New York."

Bridget stuck her tongue out at Rory. "Girl's a comedian! Who would have thunk? I didn't mean it like that – you've been to Philly before, right?"

The thoughtful pause before Rory's reply prompted a mischievous gleam in Bee's eyes.

"You were a bad girl in Philadelphia," she stated matter-of-factly, though Rory remained tight-lipped. "A romantic getaway with your man candy, perhaps, or a wild, unexpected road trip Logan talked you into during your college days…."

Rory's face remained uncharacteristically stoic, which only added fuel to Bee's fire of speculation. "It was another guy!" she accused with an outstretched finger in Rory's direction. "Oh my god, there was another guy!"

She opened her mouth to protest, but closed it.

"So there were guys before Logan…" Bee said with a heavy nod.

"Yes, Bridget," Rory rolled her eyes, "I wasn't exactly raised in a convent, you know."

"You say that as if Stars Hallow is the place where God makes pretty boys…"

"Well, uh…" Rory started, but Bee cut her off with a laugh. "Don't try to defend it, sister. I've seen Kirk."

Rory caught Bee's infectious laugh, though that didn't get her off the hook. "So, who was this Stars Hallow Boy who stole your heart?"

"He wasn't a Stars Hallow Boy…" she sighed.

"Really?"

"New York."

"Wow," Bee whistled in approval. "So, what happened?"

"What do you mean?" Rory said, trying to avoid this particular conversation, but Bridget wasn't letting up.

"Well, obviously you and New York Boy went kaput somewhere along the line and Philadelphia plays a part in this somehow. We've gone over the schedule a billion times and we've got about an hour left on the drive. I'm thinking story time…."

"Don't you have a Philadelphia romance of your own to tell?"

"I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours first," Bridget said with a smile.

"Alright," Rory agreed with a sigh.

"So, a romance?"

"It was complicated."

"As young love often is…"

"I'm sorry; did you want to tell the story?" Rory asked, feigning annoyance.

"Okay, okay, go on. So you were young and it was complicated because…."

"Because I was sixteen and with Dean," Rory started her trip down memory lane.

"Dean?"

"My boyfriend – "

"Stars Hallow native?"

Rory rolled her eyes, "Chicago."

"See! I told you…" Rory narrowed her eyes and glared at Bridget.

"Okay, moving on, moving on, moving on…." She paused for dramatic effect. "So, you were with Dean and New York Boy leaves New York and moves to Stars Hallow…"

"His mom kicked him out and sent him to live with Luke…."

"Luke Stepdad Luke?"

"Luke wasn't Stepdad Luke back then, but yes, same Luke," Rory clarified.

"Complicated."

"Not really," she shook her head, "Anyway, New York Boy and I were together briefly. I broke up with Dean to be with him and then he left."

"He left?" Bridget sounded absolutely shocked.

"Yeah." Rory smiled at the memory. At that tender age, Jess leaving seemed like a low-point in her life; it hurt her. He hurt her. But now, recapping her teenage events to Bee, in the back of a comfy limo, it was like she was retelling something she'd seen from a TV-show. That life, ten odd years ago, seemed so far away. "He went to California to be with his Dad for a while…"

"And years later you met up in Philadelphia for a night of awesome passionate sex?" Bee asked with a crooked eyebrow and a hopeful grin.

Rory snorted at her friend's twisted mind. "No, it never.. we never.. " She inhaled deeply, ignoring Bee's teasing smile. "He showed up at my grandparent's house when I was in college and there was a really awkward dinner with Logan and New York Boy and later, uh, I guess I tried to cheat on Logan with him…."

She condensed whatever 'relationship' she had with Jess severely, but it hit all the highlights and certainly got Bee's head spinning.

"What? Seriously...what? You and Logan? Cheating? Love triangles? What?"

Rory smiled at the puzzled look on Bee's face. Of course, she had only come to know Rory and Logan as Rory-and-Logan, a committed, happy couple, comfortable with their conformed life. She hadn't been around for the no-strings start of their romance, or any of the fights, break-ups and grand gestures that followed. As much as she cherished her home life, Rory suddenly yearned for that sense of unknown she had during her college days. The excitement. The unexpected. The uncertain.

"I thought you and Logan were rock-solid ever since..."

"I saw his electric blue eyes at an industry soiree..." Rory teasingly quoted her book, "but not the first time we laid eyes on each other ever."

"It's not cute when you quote your book," Bridget told her flatly, though the amusement in her tone peaked through. "I never knew you were the scandalous love-triangle type. Maybe we should consider your teenage love-life a topic for a next book…'Too much, too young, too fast' could be the working title...."

Rory's chuckle cut her off, "let's not get carried away now!"

"So what happened to NYB?" Bee asked, steering back to the original topic of conversation, "Seeing he's your stepdad's nephew – that's like family. Oh my god! You dated your family!"

"No I didn't! That's…just don't even say that!" Rory said as she scrunched up her nose in disgust. Bridget just shrugged off Rory's protesting and shot her a glance, as if to say: spill it.

She sighed heavily before continuing with the last bit of her story. "He ended up with a very successful career. He's written like eight books in five years and they've all broken the top ten on the best seller's list. "He's in Philadelphia."

"With Truncheon?"

"Yeah," Rory nodded, "You've heard of it?"

"Mariano?"

"Please don't tell me he's one of your Philly conquests…"

"Oh!" Bridget yelped, "No. Oh no, no, no. God, no!"

Part of Rory was relieved that Jess hadn't become another notch on Bee's bedpost, but at the same time she couldn't help be offended at her friend's disgust at her suggestion. At one time, Rory thought Jess was certainly conquest-worthy.

"Hey!"

"Um, Logan?" Bee questioned, as if Rory's now having a husband would change her mind about having been attracted to Jess.

"I know!" Rory laughed, holding up her left hand so that her diamond caught the sparkle of the light, "but still!"

"No. Gross. No," Bridget replied firmly, "I know Jess because we move and shake in the same circles. I helped Truncheon negotiate its West Coast venture a few years back and I started out coordinating a few events for them and that's were my Philly Love Story comes from…."

Bee continued to gab away about her adventures with the Philly-men. Apparently, she and Brian something-or-other had a pretty serious thing going on for a while, but Bridget couldn't stand the cutesiness of their first initials being the same and broke-it off. Now, of course, years later, Brian is the one who got away…

Rory could barely concentrate on keeping up her side of the revealing conversation. Breaking-up with her possible True Love for a silly reason, certainly explained a lot of Bridget's attitude toward men and relationships. Normally, Rory would be up for a good analytical heart-to-heart, but her thoughts kept drifting to Jess.

He came up in casual conversation enough for her to know what he was up to and she saw his novels climb the charts over the years. He even paid Stars Hallow semi-regular visits, but they had never ran into each other.

In fact, she hadn't seen him since that night in Philadelphia all those years ago. Bridget knew him and Truncheon had made a name for itself. Suddenly, running into Jess today seemed like a real possibility and that thought alone brought a quirky, crooked smile to her face.

Adventurous.

Certainly not comfortable.

* * *

**So, Jess returns. Sort of. It was bound to happen, what with all the book-publishing and travelling to Philadelphia. **

**Please review? **


	5. Welcome to the Madhouse

**Chapter 5: Welcome to the Madhouse **

**Here it is. Finally. I shouldn't even be writing now. I should be studying European Business or Psychology. Either one. Both, actually. And, the only writing I should be doing right now is for resumes. **

**Apart from being incredibly busy, I've rediscovered The Nanny and the whole Mr. Sheffield/Miss Fine romance is catching up quickly with Rogan for my favorite small-screen romance. I can't help it. **

**Anyway, on with the chapter. Hope you enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own GG. **

* * *

"In west Philadelphia born and raised, on the playground was where I spent most of my days…" Bridget hummed the theme-song to the 'Fresh Prince of Bell-Air' as the limo maneuvered its way through the city streets of Philadelphia.

"Thanks for the musical intermezzo, Will…"

"Oh you are no fun on long car rides," Bee told Rory with a slight whine in her tone, "you give up the deets on your past love life, ignore my Oscar-worthy tale of lost love, instead choosing to spend you time staring out of the window with that goofy grin on your face…"

Rory opened her mouth to interject, but Bridget cut her off immediately, "…and once you realized you had a man on the brain, you grabbed your cell. To call Logan I presume?" she asked through a flashy grin.

"It's almost Lottie's nap time," Rory defended weakly, as she exchanged a quick glance between her cell phone and Bridget's curious expression.

"Got to love kids," she smirked, "they make the best excuses!"

Rory frowned slightly as she was about to defend her actions once more, but the sight of their hotel distracted her immediately.

"We're here!"

"That girlie, we are," Bridget said with a nod.

* * *

Bee was in her room, scarfing down a room-service salad and making a few phone calls, before their afternoon of interviews started, leaving Rory to have lunch alone, freshen-up and prepare for the first stop on the tour. Rory had always imagined that she'd feel tense; nervous of making a fool out of herself during her first interview, but the opposite was the case. She had a cheese-steak and an iced latte brought to the room. She added a white cardigan to her ensemble, ran a brush through her hair and applied a fresh coat of lipstick.

She knew the answers to the questions that would most likely be asked, she knew what she wanted to say and how she wanted to come across. Rory was ready for this, probably more ready for anything than that she had ever been before. Still, she couldn't shake that nervous pit in her stomach.

Rory shook her near-empty iced latte in her left hand and stared at her cell phone that rested in her lap. Rory loved Bridget to pieces, but she hated her for that mocking doubt she planted in her mind. So, Jess had entered Rory's mind for the first time in a long, long time. It didn't matter, did it? She was a grown woman, after all, and she was entitled to her thoughts, wasn't she? And, her thinking of him was innocent, really, all she had done was recollect the past for a dear friend. And that was what Jess was: the past.

After a few moments of internal battle, Rory was able to talk herself out of the ridiculous thoughts about Jess. She wasn't feeling guilty about that, no, she was felt guilty for leaving behind her family!

Satisfied with her the outcome of her inner conflict, she dialed Logan's number. It rang five times before going to voicemail. Rory let out a disappointed sigh as she listened to his voice message.

"_You've reached Logan Huntzberger. Unfortunately, I've missed your call, but if you leave your name, number and or e-mail address at the sound of the tone, I will get back to you as soon as possible." _

A slight grin appeared on Rory's face as she waited for the tone; Logan's business tone was one of his sexiest. .

"Hey, it's me... Rory…your wife. Of course you know it's me. I'm sorry for rambling, I was just calling to let you know that Bee and I made it safely to Philly and that I had a Philly cheese steak for lunch. Actually, I wasn't calling to tell you about the cheese steak, but I did have that for lunch. And it was good. I'm just waiting for the interviews to kick-off – I'm excited, but I wish you and Lot could be here with me… Oh, you are probably putting her down for her nap right now, or in an important meeting. Anyway, I'll call you later. Tell Lottie I love her. Love you… bye."

Rory quickly snapped her phone shut and stared at it in bewilderment. Over the years she had become a pro at long and rambling voice messages, but this one really took the cake. Maybe she was more nervous about the interviews than she thought.

* * *

"This is Duncan Reynolds from CityChique Magazine," Bridget said as she lead a young man to the plush chair across from Rory in the conference room.

He was her fifth interviewer so far and they had only started thirty minutes ago. Bridget was in full-on business mode. Her cute curls were piled high atop her head in a bun, her black square glasses framed her face and the tone with which she spoke clearly signified that playtime was over.

Bridget looked up from her clipboard and fixed her eyes on the young interviewer. "You are reporting for a feature on the website, not print, correct?"

"Yes…" he nodded, but Bridget didn't have time to be nice. "Five minutes!"

Duncan's eyebrows shot up in surprise, it was obvious that he had been expected something different. Rory couldn't help but feel a little bad for the boy. "Bee!"

"What?"

Rory's eyes widened as she subtly cocked her head to the boy. She understood where Bridget was coming from, time was money and it was important that their book got as much exposure as possible, but if Emily Gilmore and living in society had taught her anything was that manners counted. Not only that, HPG's image was on the line and it was important that its carefully crafted image remained intact. That responsibility rested partly on Rory's shoulders.

"Alright, Rory," Bee relented with another glance at her clipboard. "Seven minutes, but just because CityChique sent over a cutie!"

Duncan craned his neck and flashed a winning smile at Bridget. His pitiful attempts were useless, though he kept his eyes firmly on Bee's rear as she sashayed her way out of the room. An amused smile appeared on Rory's face, before she turned back to business at hand.

"So, you've wasted about a minute of your precious interview time," she stated casually as the door closed. Duncan's eyes flew to Rory as he stumbled his apologies. "Yes. Right..I just need my…."

"Notebook," Rory instructed

"Right."

"And a tape recorder..."

"Got it," he held it up to show her.

"Might want to turn it on," she said with a teasing smile, "and grab a pen."

Duncan shot her an apologetic smile as he gathered his things before officially starting with his interview. "So, you've been the interviewer before as opposed to the interviewee?"

"Yes, many times," Rory nodded, "I started out as a reporter for the Franklin, my high-school's newspaper. My debut was a very thrilling article about asphalt…"

"Asphalt?"

"Yes, asphalt" Rory continued unfazed, "and from there I sort of worked my way up to editor, and continued with writing, editing and the world of journalism ever since. I was editor of the Yale Daily News. I worked on Obama's campaign trail and was a columnist for "Old York." Writing is my one true passion and we go way back… "

"Impressive," Duncan nodded as he scribbled away in his notebook. "So, how did you end up writing a book? Journalism and literature…."

"…are closely linked," Rory said with a hint of defense in her tone.

"And yet worlds apart. Obviously, this is no Proust or Hemmingway," he said with a vague gesture towards the stack of the "New York Novels" on the side table next to him, "and if you were so passionate about journalism and writing as you claim, why aren't you the new Christine Amanpour?"

"Quite forward, aren't we, for a 22-year old boy?"

"Well, you have to admit, having studied the greats, your book is cute, but it's not a classic. It's not one of the greats."

Rory pursed her lips together and shot the boy a tight smile. "I never compared myself to one of the greats. The idea for the book came to me after my job was lost in a company reorganization…"

"Reorganization?"

"I was laid off," Rory said bluntly, growing slightly frustrated with the interviewer, "so I had time to write..."

"What about finding a job?" Duncan asked with a sneer.

Rory was taken aback by the sudden turn of the conversation. "I was writing the book!"

"Please, someone has to bring home to the bacon."

"Well, I have a very supportive husband…"

"Logan Huntzberger of the multimillion dollar Huntzberger Publishing Group, correct?"

Rory was prepared for questions about her life and the high-society circles in which she moved and shook had prepared her for the mean edge gossip had, but this wasn't gossip. This was real-life. This was about her book, her baby.

"Yes…" she answered before Duncan cut her off. "Coincidentally, this is HPG's first venture with a novel to headline…."

"I really don't see how that's relevant," Rory snapped as she crossed her arms over her chest, "I'm sorry that you don't like the story, but I don't care for you implying that the only reason it's being published is because of my husband…"

"I see…" Duncan said looking up from his scribbles, "then why did you choose to write under the penname "Charlotte Danes"?" It seems to me that you are keen to hide your background…."

"It seems to me that your five minutes are up!" Rory said firmly and Duncan took the hint. He switched off his tape recorder, tossed his notebook in his bag and stood up, casting a longing gaze at the door.

"She's not, and will never be, interested," Rory informed him through a sweet smile. "I'm very busy today, doing interviews with people who actually care about the novel and not about my personal life, so please…"

She gestured at the door, which opened on cue, revealing Bridget with another, far more handsome interviewer.

"Mitchell Grant. Eight minutes," Bridget said as she pushed the new guy through the door.

Duncan exchanged a glance between the two women and the new interviewer. "Good luck man," he said before Bridget dragged him out of the room.

"Hi," Rory said, with the same soft smile as a few moments before, even though she was still livid about the implications Duncan had made. "How are you? Please take a seat."

"Very well, thanks," Grant said as he took his seat in the large armchair across from her. "Loved the book. Wonderful story, catchy writing style. Really amazing for your first publication…"

"Thank-you!" Rory's smile grew wider as she knew this interview would be much better.

"How'd you come up with the idea?"

And with that Mitchell Grant of fired off his list of questions and Rory spent eight minutes patiently answering every one. Mitchell Grant was followed by Robert Jones, Sarah Kingman, Nadia Field, Jeff Johnson, Thomas Smith, Amelia Nathonson, Josie Bentham and many others. By the time four p.m. rolled around, Rory had explained how the idea of Noah and Elle's epic romance came to her more than she could count.

* * *

She was exhausted, but energetic at the same time. The only blemish on otherwise perfect round of interviews was the one for CityChique.

"Ready?" Bee asked with a slight tap on the door, "Limo is waiting."

Rory nodded, grabbed her tote and followed Bridget out of the room. She stopped at the door, casting one last glance around the room, savoring that this was were her career as a writer took off.

"Thanks for the coffee, Frank," Rory said as she took her vanilla late from the driver and scooted in the backseat of the limo. "How amazing is this, Bee?"

"As if you've never been in a limo before," Bee responded with a laugh.

"Ha, ha, ha, girl's a comedian!"

"Funny, funny," she shot back with a smile. "Why don't you use these ten minutes of downtime to call that painfully pretty husband of yours to let him know that we are rockin' it like rock stars on a headlining tour. You might want to let it slip that your favorite PR-lady deserves a nice raise for all of her hard work!"

She gave Rory an exaggerated wink and a cheeky smile, before turning her attention to her blackberry. Rory rolled her eyes at Bee before focusing on her cell.

One missed call.

"_Hey, it's me….Logan… Your husband. Hope you know it's me; being a hot shot author out on tour might have affected you. Don't forget the little people okay, Ace? You were right, I was putting Lottie down for a nap and I conference called in to my not-so important meeting. Have fun, eat cheese steak and cheese cake and everything else Philly has to offer. I'm sure you are doing great! Call you later. Love you! " _

"You two make me sick," Bee said without looking up from her phone.

"Who?" Rory asked with laugh, "You don't even know who left the message; it could be my Mom!"

"Girl, please. I can practically feel that smile radiating!"

Rory knew Bridget was right, but she couldn't help it. Logan's message was exactly what she needed to hear after the long interview session.

"Call him back later," Bridget said as the limo slowed to a stop. "We're here."

* * *

"Marcus, darling! Over here! " A short man scurried towards Bee and Rory's table.

"Bridget, honey, you look fabulous!" He took her hands in his and seized her up. "That hair, those lips, them eyes!"

She flashed him a smile. "Oh stop. You are the one who looks like a dream. Did you loose weight? Get a new cut, new suit?"

"No, hon!" He held his hand up to his chest and leaned in closer to her, as if he was divulging a secret. "A new love!"

"Not you, too! Love I don't know from – talk to this one, she's the expert!" she said in a fake dull tone as she gestured to Rory.

"Ah, Rory Huntzberger, formally known as Rory Gilmore."

"That's me," she said as she stood up and shook his hand. "So nice to meet you."

"Oh, sugar, the pleasure is mine. After all, I've been hearing that you'd be the next Big Thing ever since my days as an awkward gay at Truncheon!"

He ignored her confused look as he twirled her around. "And you, sugar, are anything but big. And after a baby, too! Tell me, what's your secret. How'd you Hedi Klum the baby weight?"

"Uh…" Rory shrugged, before returning to her seat, "It just happened, you know, naturally."

"Gilmore girls don't work out," Bee said with mock resentfulness and took a sip of her martini.

"So, wait, let me get this straight. Girl's got the looks, the brains and the boy…." Rory looked around uncomfortably as Marcus sighed, "…well then just shoot me now!", before he and Bridget burst out in laughter.

"Aw, Marcus, but at least you have love," Rory said with a sneaky smile, "Poor Bee, here has nothing."

"Not true! I have a little black book the size of a phone book!"

"Tangible evidence of your efforts," Marcus complimented before the three of them burst out in another round of roaring laughter.

The dinner meeting was laced with laughter and banter and the three chit-chatted as if they had known each other for years, though sometime during the main course, Rory got up the courage to ask Marcus what had been on her mind since the moment they were introduced.

'So, Marcus, you worked for Truncheon? Bee never mentioned that…"

"Oh sugar, how do you think Queen Bee and I met?" Marcus rolled his eyes, "but Truncheon wasn't for me. It was so dark and moody back then, now that they've hit it big, of course… " He raised his hands and shrugged, "…but I wouldn't go back, I love my Barnes and Nobel family. Although, Truncheon did house some beautiful boys…."

"Oh, Rory agrees," Bridget slipped in playfully, earning another glare from Rory.

"Let me guess," Marcus paused to take a sip of his drink, "Mariano?"

"Ding, ding, ding!" Bee laughed and Rory cracked a smile, "You know Jess?"

"Of course, sugar. Everyone knows Jess!" He pointed at her, "but what's more – Jess knows you! He was the one who told me to be on the lookout for you; the Next Big Thing!" He paused, and a smile broke onto his face. "Well, "big", you know straight men don't know sizes! Ha!"

"Is Jess around?" Rory asked, slightly uncertain why she just asked that.

"Somewhere," Marcus shrugged, not feeling the importance of her question. "I haven't spoken to him in years, but when I saw your name on the new authors list, a light went off, I remembered, I smiled and dialed and boom, boom, pow, you are here."

"And on that note, we should get the check," Bridget suggested, "We've got to meet-and-greet in 30 minutes!"

* * *

It was past midnight by the time Rory let herself fall onto the bed in her Philly hotel room. She wasn't the least bit tired, the buzz her meet-and-greet gave her was more powerful than any caffeine buzz she had ever experienced before. The fact that people came out to see her boggled her mind, Marcus and Bridget had really done their best to make the whole evening a success. The best part was she would get to do it all over again tomorrow in Boston.

She cast a glance at the clock; she'd have to be up in four hours but she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep. For a brief moment, Rory contemplated calling Logan back, but she knew he'd be asleep. Instead, she grabbed the little "Welcome to Philadelphia Book", the complimentary hotel gift on her nightstand, and flipped through it, even though she wouldn't be able to do visit any of the hotspots as she'd be moving on tomorrow.

Rory stopped at the T's.

"_Truncheon Publishing, 1342 Chestnut Street – Not only known for the masses of best-sellers it publishes, but also known for being located in the historic part of town. The building was constructed in 1874 in a traditional Gregorian style. Take a peak inside to get a good view of the original moldings. A must-see for a real architect lover." _

She shook her head in slight disbelief. Even if she hadn't told Bee about him during the ride down, her thoughts would have wandered to him eventually – the boy was practically everywhere!

A vague sense of pride came over her. Rory always knew Jess had immense potential; she might not have pushed him as much as he did her, but it still did her good to know that he was living up to his potential and being rewarded for it. He worked hard, didn't have to rely on handouts and favors. He had created his own success.

"Coincidentally, this is HPG's first venture with a novel to headline…." Duncan's smug words suddenly filled her brain, but she quickly pushed that doubt away. She worked hard, too and writing was her dream, her passion. Just a different dream than the one she had mapped out at sixteen.

She put the book to the side as she felt herself coming down from her earlier high. Her cell phone caught her eye once more and she decided to send Logan a quick text before she fell into a restless slumber.

"_Sorry I missed your call today. So, so busy, but so much fun! Hope Lottie survived your first day of being a single dad. Talk to you tomorrow. Love you both." _

* * *

"Al's stopped serving Thai!"

"What? That's terrible!"

"I know! What will I eat on Tuesday nights?" Lorelai asked.

"Maybe Luke can cook you something?"

"Dinner food's only good on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. Fancy food at the wicked witch of Hartford on Fridays. Pizza on Saturday. Tater tots on Sunday and it's Thai Tuesday!"

"Thai Tuesday?!"

"Yes, it's been this way since you were about this high. You can't see me now, but I'm holding my hand so as to indicate a very, very tiny person," Lorelai said.

"Tuesday's in my house was rack of lamb with a cherry glaze and a rhubarb tart for dessert…."

"Logan?"

"Yes," Logan replied, amusement peaking through his tired tone.

"I was wondering how Rory got the deep voice…."

"She hasn't called you in a few days either, huh?"

"Either?"

"Uh, yeah," Logan waved his concern away, "But she's busy, you know…"

"Ah, so you called your mother-in-law for replacement conversation?" she asked with a cheeky grin.

"Not exactly…"

"But…" Lorelai pressed gently, as she knew there was more to this conversation.

"Lottie won't fall asleep!" Logan started to ramble exasperatedly. "She won't go to sleep. She just cries and cries and cries, until I take her out of her crib and bring her into the living room to watch TV. She's never done this before and Rory won't answer her phone…. Lore, I can't stay up and watch TV with Lot…."

"Well, that depends," Lorelai interjected. "Brady Bunch Marathon? No. Nanny Marathon? Yes. Hogan Knows Best Marathon? No. VH1's Behind the Scenes? Yes. It's a skill that needs fine tuning, but I'm sure you can see my point…"

"I'd laugh if I had more than 5 hours of sleep in the past four days…" Logan sighed.

"Wow. Um. Okay, have you tried reading Rory's book? That usually puts her to sleep…."

"Yes, but it's lost its magic…"

"Okay, think, think. I've got the grandma powers, you know," Lorelai paused for a second, "Warm milk? Lullaby? Rocking chair?"

"Tried, tried, tried and failed miserably on all three," Logan let her know.

"Huh." The line went silent for a moment as both Lorelai and Logan contemplated what to do.

"Oh, I know!" Lorelai's excited voice cracked through the line. "How 'bout that new Jonas Brothers CD."

"We don't own a Jonas Brothers CD."

"I'm sorry – you don't know that your wife has a tiny obsession with music cranked out by Disney Stars?" she laughed. "Check Lottie's top dresser drawer."

Lorelai heard Logan shuffle into Lottie's room, open the drawer and gasp slightly. "I'm holding a Hannah Montana CD in my left hand and a Jonas Brothers CD in my right…"

"Scary, isn't it?" she laughed, " Don't try to mock her though, she claims its for Lottie."

"But it's not?" he asked

"Rory thinks Joes a dreamboat…."

"Really?" Logan asked, with a smirk gracing his face. "Well, I can see it. It's the hair. Doesn't look as good in person though."

"Shut up! You saw the Jonas Brothers in person?"

"There had some publicity thing in New York today…" Logan sighed, remembering how the mayhem caused him to be stuck in traffic for hours.

"Ah shoot," Lorelai exclaimed, "I wanted them to sign my purity ring!"

"If only I'd known you liked them!" Logan replied continued his mocking, "If only I knew Rory liked them… maybe I should start flat-ironing my hair…."

"Let me know how that works out for you," she laughed.

"Thanks Lore."

"I don't know for what," she sighed, "You'll be up all night listening to that. You might be better off with a screaming baby!"

"I'll take my chances…" Logan told her with a laugh.

"Good luck."

"Thanks."

"Any time."

* * *

"Hello?" Rory had just been thinking about dozing off to sleep as her phone rang.

"Oh, so this number does work. I thought it'd been disconnected!"

"Grandma?" Rory couldn't help tease her mother, even though she knew Lorelai was right. Keeping in touch and touring wasn't easily combined.

"Very funny, sweets. Where are you now?" Lorelai asked.

"On the way back to New York."

"So, end of tour?"

"Yeah, end of tour." Rory felt the smile creep back on her face. Her life had been a madhouse for five days, but it had been so worth it.

"So how does it feel to be a big shot author?" Her mother's questioning brought her back to the here and now. "Mom, I'm not a big shot – but the tour went well. It was a lot of fun."

"Good," she paused, "So, how's Logan?" Rory was too tired to miss the obviousness in Lorelai's question.

"Fine, I guess. We've been playing phone tag ever since I left. But from his voicemails and texts he sounds good, why?"

"Well, I had to tell him about your obsession with the Jonas Brothers…"

"I am not obsessed with them," Rory shot back immediately.

"No, well, only Joe," Lorelai said, giving in somewhat, but Rory was not amused. "Mom!"

"It's the hair, Logan said he understood," Lorelai said with a laugh, "and don't be surprised if you find him sporting significantly flatter hair these days…"

"What?" Rory was confused.

"He called me all stressed out because he couldn't get Lottie to sleep…" Lorelai rushed to explain, but Rory cut her off.

"He called you?"

"Well, you weren't picking up your phone…."

"He didn't mention it in his texts or messages…" Rory said, a hint of anger lacing her tone.

"I'm sure he didn't want to worry you…"

"I didn't call him at one in the morning after the meet-and-greets because I didn't want to wake them!"

"Well, that was very thoughtful…" Lorelai said, not really knowing what her daughter was getting at as the line stayed quiet for a minute.

"He should have called," Rory said again.

"He did!"

"You!" Rory sighed exasperated.

"Didn't you tell him to do that if there was a problem?" Lorelai asked,

"Yes."

"So?"

"Nothing. Well, he sent me Thai food so I'm sure it worked," Lorelai informed her daughter.

"Thai food?"

"Al's stopped Thai Tuesdays!" Lorelai yelled through the phone.

"He did not?" Rory matched her mothers outraged tone.

"He did!"

"Why?" she demanded.

"Something about health code violation…" Lorelai mumbled, causing Rory to laugh.

"Health code smealth code, I say! What are you going to eat Tuesday Nights?"

"Not rack of lamb and a cherry glaze, I can tell you that much."

"No," Rory scrunched up her nose, "that's Friday Night Dinner food…"

"That reminds me," Lorelai said, "make sure you give Logan an extra pop-tart or something. He had a deprived childhood."

"I'm almost home now, so I'll do it right away."

"Dirty," Lorelai giggled .

"Hanging up now!" Laughing, Rory snapped her phone shut just as the limo pulled up to her apartment building. From the backseat, she could see Logan and Lottie waiting for her in the lobby.

She was back home.

* * *

_So. I know the tour went by quickly, but it's not really about the tour, is it? No, it's about the results of the tour, the reviews, book sales, numbers, profit. And if we are going to see a West Coast tour. And what about the baby? And Rory's still MIA period? And Jess? And Bee's love life? And Logan's thoughts on all of this... I know, lots of questions that will be answered all in good time. First, though, Lottie's birthday! _

_Let me know what you thought and sorry again for the major delay in updating!! _


	6. The Reviews Are In

**There is no excuse for going 80 days without updating. I just…couldn't. **

**As you might remember, Rory went on a book tour. During that time, Jess was heavily on her mind and work commitments kept her from talking to Logan on a regular basis. In addition, our favorite couple had a little talk about the future of their family (siblings for Lottie?) and Rory promised Logan another kid. Just as soon as her period returns. For now, Rory returns to the home front.**

* * *

Logan stood in the lobby, Lottie balancing on his hip, waiting for Rory.

"Daddy," the little girl whined impatiently as she lightly touched his face with her slightly sticky toddler hand.

"I know, I know, Ness," Logan whispered reassuringly as he bounced Lottie on his hip. He wasn't sure if her whining had to do with the face that she really missed her mom, or because they had been standing in this apartment lobby for close to twenty minutes. Unnecessary minutes, Logan realized as he glanced up at the clock, considering Rory's text had let him know that her ETA was two pm. It was Logan who had rushed downstairs at 1:30 to be her personal welcoming committee. He rolled his eyes inwardly – it wasn't only Lottie who had missed Rory.

"Guess what tomorrow is, Ness?" Logan asked, hoping to distract his daughter. She immediately removed her hand from Logan's cheek and put it on her own as a deeply pensive look crept over her features – brows furrowed, her dark brown eyes narrowed to slits and her lips pulled into a perfected pout. Logan stayed quiet for a few moments, allowing Lottie to think about his question, but she had to give up. Her eyes popped open and she shrugged. "I don't know."

A soft chuckle escaped Logan; besotted with Lottie's theatrical flair. "You really don't know?" he asked again. She shook her head wildly, allowing the headband that she wore in her hair to fall out.

"Daddy!"

Logan set Lottie down, before grabbing the headband and attempting to reposition it in Lottie's hair, but she didn't allow him.

"No," she told him firmly. "Mommy has to do it."

It had been an argument between them for the past week – Lottie did not like how Logan fixed her hair and quite frankly, he agreed with her since he had no clue what to do with headbands, barrettes, clips and pony tail holders.

"Alright," he relented through a soft smile, "why don't you hold it, then Mommy can fix it?"

Lottie nodded happily, clutching the pink and yellow polka-dot band in her hand. "So….," she drew out, as she placed a sassy hand on her hip.

"You are a funny girl," he complimented her, before continuing, "tomorrow is your birthday! You'll be two tomorrow!"

Lottie clapped her hands excitedly and Logan saw the recognition of the birthday-concept in her eyes – it was another topic they had covered extensively this week. "I'm a birthday girl!" she said happily as a smile filled her face.

"Well, this sure looks like a fun place," Rory's warm voice filled the apartment lobby, causing Logan and Lottie to look up. An immediate smile appeared on Logan's face, as Lottie ran to her mom.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Rory dropped to her feet and scooped Lottie into a hug. They stayed like that, sitting on the floor of the lobby, for a moment or two, before Lottie broke loose.

"Guess what, Mommy?" she asked, locking her eyes to Rory's. Logan kept his distance as he watched as Rory pulled her lips into an exaggerated pout and furrowed her brow, just like Lottie moments before.

"I don't know, Lot, what?"

The young girl brought her hands to her chest – as if she was about to impart some words of wisdom on Rory – and cocked her head to the side. "I'm a birthday girl!"

Rory couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her lips and pressed a quick kiss on her daughters temple. "That's right; tomorrow! You're going to be two years old! " She ran her eyes over her daughter – it was really unbelievable that the little bundle of tininess was going to be two years old tomorrow. Rory noticed the headband that Lottie held in her hand.

"Oh, you don't like the headband, sweetie?" Rory asked and out the corner of her eye she noticed Logan making his way over to them. She smiled brightly at him, and he smirked at her. "Daddy isn't exactly Ken Paves, is he?" he asked as he brushed a hand over his daughter's hair. It was obvious that Lottie had no idea was Logan was referring to so she simply ignored him and held out the headband for Rory to take. "Fix it, Mommy."

Rory willingly obliged and positioned the headband perfectly. "Better?"

"Much better," Logan replied before Lottie could get the chance. Both girls looked up at him and each took the hand he held out for them as the reunited family made their way upstairs.

* * *

"If you make some coffee, I'll put her down," Logan told Rory as he pushed open their apartment door.

"Oh, I can take her," Rory said eagerly extending her arms to grab tuckered out Lottie from Logan, but he shot her down gently. "I've got it covered, Ace."

Lottie was tired – it had been a jam-packed birthday celebration day. It was Shira's turn to host the event this year and she gone all out in an attempt to overshadow Emily's offering last year. It was every two-year olds dream party, what with the pink-frosted cupcake tower and tap dancing show; though, like any Society event, it quickly turned to business, Rory's business to be more precise. Logan left her to talk shop with Mitchum and Richard, while he took pictures of Lottie and chitchatted with Lorelai and Luke.

It was odd that the tables were turned. Rory had to admit that she liked the recognition from Mitchum and she liked the curious glares the society women were giving her. It was smug, but she enjoyed that her life was more than party planning and gossiping. However, at home, Rory couldn't help shoot her husband a curious look as he was the one carrying their daughter to her room. It was supposed to be her. Up until the book tour, most of the parenting duties fell upon her. Then again, she had been away and in the meantime Logan and Lottie established a new routine, she rationalized to herself, and routine is good for a kid.

Rory sighed heavily, shaking her head slightly at her thoughts, before turning on her heel and heading toward the kitchen.

"Hey stranger."

She felt Logan's hands on her hips and his breath tickle her neck. It was a good feeling; she'd missed this. Rory turned her head slightly and met his gaze head on.

"Hey you yourself."

Logan's lips pulled into a smile and for a split-second, Rory thought he was going to lean in and kiss her, but instead he pulled her closer, letting his chin rest on top of her head as they stood in intimate stillness. Standing wrapped in his arms was trusted and comfortable feeling.

" I missed you, Ace." His whisper broke the sweet silence and Rory pulled away a little bit. It was something about that soft look in his eyes that made her heart melt.

"I've missed you too. I'm sorry the tour was so busy - I should've called more."

"Nah.." Logan brushed her suggestion away, "…you didn't know Lottie and I'd be up 'till two in the morning watching infomercials and listening to the Jonas Brothers. And the phone works both ways.."

Rory laughed at his comment and leaned into his hug once more. "I'm going to kill my mom…."

"Hey, she was good help." He said pulling back and shooting her a pointed look. "Besides, I don't judge," Logan shrugged lightly. "I did almost get my hair straightened though…"

"Don't you dare!"

"So you like my blond locks?" Logan asked teasingly and Rory replied just as coyly. "Why yes, I do."

"Good!" he quipped back and ran a hand through his hair. "I could never straighten this mane."

"Ha!" Rory couldn't help the laugh that escaped her, "as if you know anything about hair styling… "

" Never said I did, babe," Logan laughed back, "…however, I do know a thing or two about dresses." He nodded as if this was something to be impressed by, Rory took the bait and carried on with their light banter.

"This is so. In fact, this is part of the reason I love you so much. Every dress you pick is automatically approved by Society and that goes for me, just as much as it does for Lottie."

Logan smirked – his dress buying had been limited to the toddler section for the last few events. It was time he and Rory had a little escape that required some fancy dress. He made a mental note, before continuing. "Yes, Mom did like that dress. Too bad she asked if they carried adult sizes, as well…"

"Well, you know your mom has a hard time staying sober at these events."

Logan smiled at Rory's wicked – but true! – comment. "She was relatively sober, though."

Rory nodded in agreement. "She kind of had to be to redeem herself for being too hung over to visit the hospital the day Lot was born. And, of course, Emily hosted the all-important first birthday…"

"Can you believe Nessie is two years old?"

This question cut through Rory's thoughts. It was so odd that a few years ago she was fresh out of college – single, no commitments – and now she had that whole white-picket-fence going on. Now it was so familiar and comfortable, though sometimes she craved that freedom she once had.

"No, I can't," she replied to her husband's question. "It seems like yesterday I was getting on the Barack bus…. And getting off the trail in Indiana. And going to New York to start writing for Old York…."

"…and bumping into me." Logan's hands found their way to her hips again and she looked up to meet his gaze. Her breath hitched as she caught the look in his eyes. "Yeah," she breathed out softly.

"Time flies…"

"…when your having fun," she managed to complete his sentence. Their lips were just millimeters away from each other and tension built with every breath.

"I really, really missed you." Logan let her know, before dipping in and kissing her. She didn't get a chance to reply – her words were swallowed by his kisses.

* * *

A shrill buzz of a cell phone sliced through the room at this ungodly hour.

"It's your phone," Logan groaned as he rolled over to shove Rory out of bed, find the phone and make the heinous ringing stop.

She ran a lazy hand over her bedside table, but couldn't find her phone. "Where is it?" she asked out loud in her morning grogginess, but all she got was Logan's snore in reply. Luckily, the buzzing kept going just long enough for Rory to locate her clutch to find the buzzing object on the bottom of the bag.

"Rory, Rory? Did I wake you up?"

It was Bee. As much as she loved her, Rory couldn't help but hate that Bee was one of those cheery, optimistic morning people. Rory heaved an agitated sigh as she she cast a quick glance at the clock. "No, I'm always up at 4:30 in the morning, Bee."

"Ouch," Bee chuckled. "I guess some one didn't get enough sleep!" She continued in a sing-song tone.

"I'll hang up."

"Oh, you know I wouldn't have called if it wasn't important, Sleeping Beauty!" Bee shot back happily. This tidbit caught Rory's attention. "What?"

"Well, normally you'd have to wait 'till Monday to read the reviews in the papers but I've managed to snatch up a few before…"

Rory's jaw practically hit the floor. It didn't take long for her to recover as she interjected almost immediately. "Are they good?"

"I'm forwarding them to you as we speak…."

Rory jumped up from the bed and hurried to her office. She bit her bottom lip nervously as she hit the power button on her notebook. Meanwhile, Bridget continued rambling about the success of the East Coast Tour and possible target figures…

"You know what this means, don't you?" she asked.

"Bee, I haven't even read the reviews yet – apparently my computer is a morning person, too!"

"Well," Bridget laughed, "Let me just say I hope you didn't unpack yet, because we've got another trip scheduled. West-coast, baby. Two weeks. I'm waiting for that side of the world to wake up to firm up dates…."

"Bee! That's…" Rory couldn't quite find the words she was looking for. On the one hand, it was fantastic news; the best news a first time author would hope to receive. On the other hand, she didn't want to fully embrace the euphoria. She needed to know how Logan and Lottie felt about it first.

"…amazing, awesome, excellent. I know! Look, honey, I've got to run. I'll give you a jingle later!"

With that, Bee hung up and Rory was left staring at her computer screen, waiting for Outlook to retrieve her e-mail.

* * *

"You are up early," Logan said as he shuffled into the kitchen a few hours later. She shot him a soft smile and held out a coffee mug for him. "It's fresh."

He took it gratefully and sipped as Rory begun talking. "So. Bee called."

"That's early," Logan noted, though Rory didn't make a quip about the phone incident this morning.

"She had good news." She told him, before handing him a stack of printed emails. "My book reviews."

Logan exchanged a confused look between the papers and his wife. "I thought…not 'till Monday?" he asked and he took a seat next to her at the kitchen table.

"Bee pulled a few strings," Rory rolled her eyes, "I get why Mitchum thinks she's the greatest!"

"That she is," Logan sighed, he couldn't deny feeling a little left out of the loop. He kept his gaze on her trying to read her expression as he absentmindedly flicked through the papers, but her look was neutral, ambiguous, yet urging him to stop staring and start reading.

"_Charlotte Danes delivers the whirlwind tale of Ella and Noah's epic love in a breathtakingly fresh way. Definitely one [author] to keep looking out for."_

"_Danes' deliciously detailed telling of young socialite's Ella's life makes you wonder if it's a firsthand account."_

"_Get lost in promising new author Charlotte Danes' world of Noah and Ella, which includes, but isn't limited to: backstabbing employers, black cards, castle weddings, a pregnancy, depression, unemployment, crazy friends, loving family, a lot of laughter and love. A wonderful modern and dreamy story readers of Cosmopolitan can't help but LOVE"._

The reviews weren't screaming with praise, but they were good, solid, promising reviews. Honest and sincere, not looking at her Huntzberger name. Just how Rory wanted it. In fact, if Logan was completely honest, for a first time writer they were excellent!

She grinned at him. "Not bad, huh?"

"Not bad at all! It's great!" he exclaimed before pressing a kiss on her lips. He cast another glance at the pile of praise. " What does it mean?"

"That the book doesn't completely suck!" she replied in her 'duh' voice, but Logan wasn't playing around.

"Rory…"

"In means a West Coast tour, Logan," Rory sighed, "Bee's going to call later with the details, but she's looking at two weeks."

He knew that the two week West Coast tour was the plan. He was excited for his wife, but a little selfish, too. He liked it when she was home. Nevertheless, he put on a smile, and reached for her hand. "That's excellent, Ace!"

"It is?"

Logan cocked his head to the side. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Rory frowned deeply as she looked at her husband – she expected a little resistance to this whole thing.

"Because…I don't know…I just…"

"Look, Lottie is a popular girl at the office and our first run without Mom was a little rough at times, but overall it was o.k. and I'm sure we'll do better on the second go," Logan told her lightly, confidently

"But what about…" Rory almost didn't want to bring it up, seeing as her period was still MIA and Logan hadn't mentioned it, but she couldn't let go of that spat before the tour. He had seemed pretty keen on having a baby sooner than later. "…baby?"

"Baby?" Logan's eyebrows shot up in surprise as he repeated her words. "I though we had established that there was no baby as of yet…?"

"There isn't," Rory was quick to debunk any of his building hope. "I just thought, you know, that…" she gesticulated, not really wanting to complete the rest of her sentence. He knew what she was getting at, though.

"I do want another baby, but I never said we had to have one right after your book tour, Ace… I just wanted to make sure you wanted another baby." He waited a beat. "You do, right?"

Rory waited a beat before answering, but deep down she knew that she agreed with him. It was just awkward timing, but he seemed to have taken some of the pressure off. "Yeah. I do."

A love-filled kiss sealed the deal and soon Lottie woke up, reminding the Huntzberger's that they weren't the free-of-responsibilities couple they once were.

And yet, things weren't like they were before the tour. Logan fed Lottie breakfast as Rory replied to a stream of work-related e-mails and even though both seemed happy and settled in their new roles, both wondered how long it would last.

**

* * *

**

A little substantial filler? I don't know. I **couldn't get a Hartford Birthday scene written (even though I love all the "extras") I'll bring 'm back, eventually. And I liked the Lottie/Logan thing, the family thing and the Logan/Rory time. But for now, I just really want to get to the juicy part of this story (as I'm sure you're waiting for that!)**

**Thank you for sticking around! :) Happy holidays! Love!**


	7. Unwelcome Change

**I was going to write for Messing with Forever this afternoon, but ended up re-reading a good part of New York Night. God, I forget how awful some parts were and how amazing other parts were! Good times. Anyway, it inspired me to write for this and update! Yay! **

**Flashbacks are italics. **

**Disclaimer: I am not ASP! And, I mention a lot of places/restaurants/stores by their names. This is done to make the story seem a little more realistic, but I obviously don't own any of these places! **

* * *

Growing up, travel had always been on Rory's radar. She wanted to visit the places she'd read about in her novels, she wanted to see – with her own eyes – all the world's important landmarks, the world's heritage as identified by UNESCO, she wanted to breath the same air and see the same buildings old-worldly historical figures did, she wanted to see the buildings in which world leaders signed influential treaties.

Recently, travel had been limited somewhat. Over the summer, Logan had rented a house for a few weeks at Martha's Vineyard and Colin and Stephanie had invited them to their cabin in Aspen for a week during the winter holidays. He'd surprised her with a few romantic weekends to St. Thomas and he'd booked the jet a handful of times for a quick trip up to Hartford, but her destinations weren't new anymore.

In that sense, Rory was excited about travelling to Seattle for the start of her two-week tour of the West Coast. She'd seen most of the US during her time on the trail, however, it had never taken her to the home of Starbucks, Boeing, Microsoft and of course, McDreamy. What she was less excited about was that she was flying Delta's Business Class, since apparently this 757 to Seattle didn't have a First Class.

Inwardly, Rory groaned at how selfish she'd become; once she was the girl who had no problems backpacking her way through Europe's dirty, sixteen-to-a-room hostels and now she was miffed that she was sharing a cabin with fifteen other lucky Business Class travelers.

Yes, the 55 inch pitch and the 150 degree recline was nice, pleasant even, compared to the poor saps in coach, but the Jet was roomier and she knew the flight attendants that worked on board the Huntzberger Jet and they always had fresh coffee and a chocolate éclair or something waiting for her when she arrived.

"You aren't nervous about flying, are you?" Bee asked, yanking Rory from her self-absorbed thoughts.

Rory shook her head. "No, not at all. Why?"

"Because you're so fidgety, girl," Bee laughed. "I might have to slip you a Xanax to settle down!"

"I'm just trying to get comfortable in my seat," Rory said, waving a finger over her chair. Bridget chuckled again as she observed all of Rory's belongings. Her laptop balancing on her armrest, her bottle of Evian in the cup holder, the Marie Claire in her seat-pocket and the newspaper that peaked out of her new leather Prada tote.

"For a girl who still teeters around on her two-year old Nine West pumps, you've sure become high-maintenance, Gilmore," she remarked, before taking and passing a glass of complimentary champagne to Rory.

"I am not," Rory defended, but the truth reared it's ugly head as she sipped the champagne. As the bubbly fizz hit her tongue, she resisted every urge she had to spit it straight back into the cheap plastic flute it came from.

She swallowed, eventually and winced. "This is awful!" Rory exclaimed through a whisper.

"Not the Dom you're used to?" Bee teased good-naturedly, before downing another sip of the substandard bubbly. Rory rolled her eyes at her friend and tried another sip, but deemed the champagne undrinkable. For her, at least.

Maybe Bee was right, maybe Rory was spoiled. No, she dismissed that thought. Rory had a loving upbringing, yes, but at the same time it was one that lacked a silver-spoon. And Rory still believed in all that her mother had instilled in her, didn't she?

* * *

"_What's the time?" Rory asked as she made a mad dash into the kitchen. _

"_Slow down, Usain Bolt," Logan replied casually as he handed her a pop-tart. "It's 6:45, you've got 20 minutes to get to your morning meeting." _

_Rory downed the last sip of her coffee and gave the mug to Logan for a refill as she bit off a piece of pop-tart. "It's a good thing I like my pop-tarts raw," she remarked before appreciatively taking the mug of fresh coffee from her husband. _

"_It's a good thing Lottie is a late sleeper; she'd pick up your bad manners in no time!" _

_Rory laughed as she shrugged off Logan's comment. "She's a Gilmore, double-fisting coffee and pop-tarts is part of her genetic make-up." _

"_It could turn out to be scotch Ace," Logan teasingly reminded her, causing Rory to fake gag. "Firewater and pop-tarts are a terrible combination. Any daughter of mine knows that." _

_A wide smirk captured Logan's face and he leaned in close, as if he was going to kiss her, but instead his hands went to her blouse and he started to unbutton them. "If you say so, Ace." _

"_Logan," Rory protested to this bit of morning affection, "what are you doing? I've got to be downtown in fifteen minutes…"_

"_I know that," he whispered in her ear, and proceeded to undo the last button of her blouse. Rory was about to swat his hands away – she really didn't have time for this! – but in an uncharacteristic move, he started to re-do the buttons. _

_Rory watched in bewilderment as his nimble fingers ran the tiny cream-colored buttons through the designated holes in her light blue shirt. She looked up and her confused eyes looked at him, waiting for an explanation. _

_Logan held back a laugh – he loved that a few of his touches could still make her head spin as if their love was still young. "Well, you were misaligned," he informed her innocently. "I needed to fix it." _

_Rory's eyes quickly shot down and she saw that her buttons were perfectly matched. She honestly couldn't remember if she had emerged from the bedroom this morning with a miss-buttoned blouse but she found it incredibly sexy that Logan stopped her from leaving the house looking like a complete mess. _

"_My hero." A coy smile tugged at her lips. "Thank-you," she said as she gently grabbed hold of Logan's t-shirt and pulled him closer for a kiss. _

_They stayed like this for a handful of minutes, each kiss causing Rory's back to arch more, each touch causing Logan to want more. Ruefully, he broke off the kiss knowing that enduring Rory and Mitchum's wrath for starting a meeting late, wasn't worth the pleasure morning-sex would bring. _

"_You, missy, have got to get going…" he whispered in her ear, before he pulled away completely. "Thank-you for this, though," he continued with a smirk as he gently ran a finger over his bottom lip. _

_Rory didn't say anything; Logan always had that uncanny ability to render her speechless, but the slight pinkness that rose from under her collar spoke volumes to Logan. She made no effort to pack her briefcase and head for the door so Logan carried on with his dream-like husband ways. _

"_So, you've got any plans for tonight?" _

_Rory cocked her head to the side, as this little inquiry spiked her curiosity. "No?" _

"_I was thinking a late dinner at Daniels?" he suggested casually, as if he was mentioning that he wanted a take-out pizza for dinner, instead of a meal at one of the most prestigious restaurants in the city. _

"_Daniels?" Rory repeated excitedly. It was one of her favorite places, one she and Logan reserved for special occasions. She couldn't think of an occasion that justified tonight's excursion, but her head was already spinning with food choices. "Can we get the cheese plate for dessert? Or, oh no, the chocolate mousses. I love the little chocolate mousses!" _

"_Whatever you want," Logan grinned at his happy wife. "I'll get Finn to babysit," he continued as Rory popped a bottle of Evian and her cell phone in her purse, "and don't worry, I tell him to go light on the presents – we've only got one kid and one playroom, he's already Lottie's favorite uncle, no need to buy her affection." _

_Rory laughed. "You are a mind-reader!" _

"_I know my wife," Logan shot back playfully. _

"_I'm glad you do," she said, before pressing a quick kiss on his lips. "I've got to run, babe. Call you later!" _

_And with that, she hurried for the door. Instead of closing it behind her, she let it fall in the latch with a bang, which proved to be an excellent alarm clock for Lottie as her crying filled the apartment not a second later. _

* * *

_The way their eyes met from across the room was similar to they way they had met at the Top 50 Online Magazines Soiree. Even her dress was a similar grey color. The only difference was that they were standing in their living room, not in some banquet hall of a fancy hotel and Logan, being the perfect husband, had picked out the dress (Chanel), the shoes (navy-colored Christian Louboutins), a matching blue satin clutch (Chanel) and beautiful pearl-drop earring (Tiffany's). The energy they shared was exactly the same though. _

"_You look stunning, my dear Ace," Logan complemented his wife with a beaming smile. _

"_You don't look too bad yourself, mister," she noted, eyeing him in his navy blue suit. "Thank-you for the dress – it's gorgeous." _

_He took her hand and twirled her around the living room , before pulling her close for a hug. "You deserve it. Besides, I got tired of picking out toddler-sized dresses for little Miss Nessie." _

"_Hey, mate! The little one can hear you, you know!" Finn cut through the romantic moment. "Us princesses need princess dresses!" _

_Rory didn't know how Logan kept the stern look on his face as Finn and Lottie appeared donning princess tiaras, long strands of pearls, satin gloves and lipstick. Lottie was also wearing clear plastic heels and a light blue princess dress, cutting the image of a true Cinderella. _

"_Oh, don't you two look adorable! Let me get the camera!" Rory laughed as Logan scoffed. "What did I say about presents, Finn?" _

"_Oh, come on mate, she's only got one uncle!" _

"_What about Colin?" Rory asked before taking a few shots of her Cinderella daughter and her Fairy Godmother. _

"_She's only got one fun uncle, love," Finn rephrased his statement which caused Logan to crack a smile. Only Finn would take time out of his busy schedule of dating girls-that-would-break-his-heart and scoping out new clubs to babysit his two-year old daughter and go so far as to play dress up. _

"_Alright," Logan relented, "but those tiaras better not be from Tiffany's!" _

"_I bought the lot FAO Schwarz," Finn shrugged as if it was no big deal. "Got a date with the sales girl there, too. She thought I was buying it for my daughter…" _

"_How'd she get that idea?" Rory asked with a raised eyebrow. _

"_Well, because I told her that it was for my daughter, whom I can never see since my horrible ex-wife keeps her from me…" Finn rolled his eyes, "the tragic background story makes women melt for me…" _

"_Finn! You've got to stop lying to these women!" Rory exclaimed, slightly amused that Finn would go through all the trouble to conjure up some ridiculous plot, though Logan was less amused. _

"_Finn! You've got to stop using our daughter as bait for dates, man!" _

_But before Finn had a chance to defend himself, Lottie tugged on his sleeve, vying for his attention. _

"_What is it, love-light?" _

"_Tea party, Uncle Finny!" the young one squealed with delight. _

"_Duty calls," Finn told Rory and Logan as he scooped up the young girl. "Enjoy, you two." _

_Rory and Logan thanked Finn and said goodbye to their daughter, but she was far too consumed by the magical world of princesses and fairytales. _

* * *

_Rory had been racking her brain a good part of the day to figure out the reason for Logan's spur of the moment romantic dinner, but she couldn't figure it out. Somewhere, way in the back of her mind she suspected Mitchum might have something to do with it, but nothing pointed solely to his direction._

"_So, what's the occasion?" Rory asked, finally giving in, as she and Logan stepped out into the sweet summery permeated air of the New York night. _

"_Why do we have to have an occasion?" Logan shot back coyly. His hand found its way to hers as they started walking down the street. _

"_Daniels isn't exactly take-out and a girl doesn't get new Louboutins every day, unless she's Victoria Beckham…" _

"_I love you," Logan explained quite simply, "can't that be an occasion in itself? A guy should be able to spoil his wife every once in a while – no strings attached." _

_Rory shot him a bright smile and realized that she couldn't argue with logic like that. "I suppose he should." _

"_I'm glad we see eye to eye on this, Ace," he mocked her lightly as he pressed a kiss atop her head. _

_The pair continued their leisurely stroll to the restaurant discussing everything and nothing as they walked. It surprised them how quickly the reached the venue. _

"_Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Huntzberger, so wonderful to see you again," the maitre 'd greeted them warmly. He took their coats, lead them to the table and provided them with a complementary glass of cabernet. _

"_This is really nice," Rory commented on her high-end surroundings as she swirled the wine around in her glass. _

"_Yes, it is," Logan nodded in return before opening the hard cover of his menu. They stole glances at each other as they stole glances at their menus, but Logan had a tiny bit of fessing up to do. _

"_So, I guess there is a reason for tonight." _

_Rory looked up from her menu. "There is?" She immediately worried that her vague feeling about Mitchum was true. Obviously, for the last two years, Mitchum had adhered to the contract she and Logan had designed concerning Logan's employment, but in today's meeting something changed. Mitchum alluded to some things that could be potential red flags, flags that would certainly justify a Monday night dinner with an eight hundred dollar tab, plus the designer addition to her wardrobe. "Did you talk to Mitchum?" _

_Logan briefly struggled to swallow his wine. "My dad?" _

_Apparently, there had been no communication between Huntzberger father and son, Rory observed_

_and she decided to keep Mitchum comments about a company reorganization to herself. _

"_Yeah, you know him. Tall guy. Balding. Beady little eyes…carries a scythe sometimes." _

"_Don't joke," Logan told Rory, "what did he say – do I need to talk to him?" _

"_No, no," Rory absentmindedly brushed a few stray hairs out of her face, "he was just a little on edge in the meeting. No worries." _

"_Are you sure?" _

"_Yeah, it's just, you know, if anyone could take this away – it'd be Mitchum, and this tour, this book… it's all been so amazing and unreal. I figured a fancy restaurant and a nice little dress would be the perfect way to tell me it's all a dream…"_

_Logan smiled and he reached over the table to take Rory's hand in his. "It's not, babe. You've done this – you made this happened and that's what the reason for this dinner is. A celebration of your achievements, if you will." _

"_I will," Rory quipped coyly. _

"_We've been so busy lately, what with the Stars Hallow Reenactment, Lot's birthday and the tour that I've never gotten a chance to properly congratulate you on your success." _

_Rory couldn't remember from her high-school biology lessons if it was psychically possible for a heart to swell, but if it was, that's what she was feeling right now. _

"_And, I just want you to know that I'm so proud of you and so happy for you. I know you worry about me and Lottie coping without you, but we've got it covered and I'll happily play Dad and work less for you – for us…" _

"_Logan…" Rory tried to interject, but he didn't let her. "No, I'm not done yet, Ace." He smiled softly. "I just, I think you might've gotten the wrong idea about the baby." _

_Rory nodded slowly. They'd talked about this, briefly, but she understood where he was coming from. _

"_I just wanted to say that there is no pressure to conceive right now, I just want us to keep our options open for the future." _

_She nodded again, acknowledging the point he was making, once again. "No pressure" was good, because her lady friend had yet to make it's highly anticipated visit. Now, she was almost twenty days late and that was unacceptable in her book, but what was she to do? Still, she wasn't entirely convinced that she should share this bit of information with her husband and worry him. _

"_It's okay, Logan," Rory reassured her husband, I overreacted. I was stressed about the tour… and everything." _

_He squeezed her hand gently. "That's why I figured you deserved a nice night out before you left for Seattle." _

"_Seattle," Rory confirmed with a eager smile. _

"_Excited?" _

"_Home of Starbucks, are you kidding me?" Rory laughed, before taking a sip of her red wine. _

_Conversation slipped back into casual, friendly, loving, comfortable banter as the pair dined on everything from artichoke soup and pumpkin risotto to pan-seared tuna and angus beef burgers and the beloved trio of chocolate mousse and highly-anticipated the cheese plate. _

_Towards the end of the meal, Logan revealed that he had one last celebratory surprise for Rory. He summoned the maitre 'd and the good man brought out a large white box. _

"_Open it," Logan told a surprised Rory. _

"_Ooh, Logan –it's beautiful," Rory gushed as she lifted the lid of the box. Inside, was the most stunning piece of equipment designed for lugging around everyday crap she'd ever witnessed: a black leather Prada tote. _

"_I figured you'd need a bag that underscored that you're a successful career woman," Logan quipped. _

* * *

Mercifully, all of Rory's fellow business class passengers were engrossed by their mini-tvs and its video on demand system so they didn't notice her sudden, startling revelation.

_Everything_ had changed from her days as a fresh-faced, spork-wielding kid! Who was she trying to fool that it hadn't?

Now she had a walk-in closet overflowing with designer clothes, shoes, and handbags. Her antique mahogany jewelry box was flooded with diamonds and gemstones from all the best jewelers in New York. A night out consisted of skipping the months-long waiting list at one of the finest restaurants in the city and dropping nearly a grand on a meal without blinking an eye. Not to mention their daughter had a playroom filled with goodies from FAO Schwarz and, she herself, had a pair of Harry Winston diamonds sparkling in her just-two year old ears.

No wonder, then, that Rory was spitting out business class champagne and complaining about her lack of space.

It wasn't as if she hadn't expected some change – after all, she had been a mother and a wife for over two years now. She'd been on the campaign trail. College and high-school were fond, but distant, memories. She was grown-up, she had a job. Rationally, she knew she wasn't the college kid she once was. And yet, Rory couldn't help but wonder, why it seemed as if that whole part of her had disappeared. When had that girl left and made place for a society snob? And where did that put her Lorelai learned skills? Surely, Luke would never take her mother to Daniels, preferring coffee and burgers over pretentiously prepared foods.

It annoyed her that it took flying freaking business class to realize she'd become an Emily Gilmore clone and she needed to talk to someone – preferably her mother – about this. She could use the airplane phone, but she knew that this wasn't a conversation to have at 30,000 ft.

She glanced sideways and saw the Bridget, too, was watching some video on demand. Apparently, it was pretty funny going by the grin plastered on her face, though Rory wasn't in the mood to watch tv.

Instead, she reached for her paper from her giant Prada tote. For a bag that had brought her so much joy the other night – a perfect night, with her perfect husband, a snapshot of her perfect life, - she wanted nothing more than to roll down the little airplane window and drop the bag, letting it fall to smithereens somewhere above the Midwest.

* * *

**I know this may seem a bit short and random, but trust me, it's all with purpose, because we've got a lot going. And by a lot, I mean a _lot_. **

**Anyway, hope you liked this in all it's constructed randomness and I really do hope you review. I know a lot (and I mean a lot – like 152 people!) read this and I just really, really, really like reviews! **


	8. Some Things Never Change

**Thank-you for all the lovely reviews on the last chapter! I just hope this story lives up to the original!**

**Standard Disclaimers apply**

* * *

Before the plane touched down at Seattle's Tacoma Airport Rory was happy to have done her inaugural tour on the North-East coast. To her mind, it was the heart of the nation's publishing world, what with New York being home to HPG and the Times' Best Sellers List and other north-eastern cities housing challenging competition. Besides, small, up-and-coming presses were abundant in every city up and down the coast. Rory figured that if her fast-paced visits to Philadelphia, Hartford, Providence, Boston, and New York were successful this two week tour of the West would be a chinch.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

Much to Bridget's doing, word had gotten out that Rory was a promising young author and "New York Novel" was quickly becoming a hot commodity. Rory's spent her day and a half in Seattle holed up in a hotel room suite, answering journalist's questions and filming segments for a variety of morning shows. Her workday carried well into the evening, when she and Bee hit up a book launch for a fellow young author. Rory knew that networking was part of the gig and even if she had forgotten, Mitchum's voice crashed her thoughts at the most random times, reminding her that "HPG's success as a publishing house rides on this venture."

Rory was just thankful that she had a spare fifteen minutes to pop by the nation's first Starbucks for a Java Chip Frappucino, before she and Bee hit the road for Portland, Oregon, where they had another 24 hour stop. Meetings with the journalists in the morning, segments and book signings in the afternoon and dinner with some bigwig business associate. The next 48 hours were all about San Francisco, before moving on to LA and San Diego and wrapping up in Las Vegas .

Rory wasn't complaining, though – she welcomed the business; it meant that people were responding well to her literary pursuits and that meant – fingers crossed! – that 'New York Novel' would be another HPG success story. Not only that, it distracted her from her imminent identity crisis and her still-missing period. She put all her energy in to not dwelling on either of those touchy subjects, though she had a pile of work at the ready if those thoughts dared to enter her mind.

Lorelai and Logan were both left intentionally ignorant about the subject – as far as they were concerned Rory was just busy, young author like any other. Their lives had transitioned easier into the touring life the second time around. Rory had yet to receive panicky phone calls about an insomnia-ridden toddler, she checked her phone for texts on the hour and the time difference allowed Rory to call both of her home fronts for sweet chit-chat, before falling in to a much-needed sleep.

* * *

It was midnight by the time the bellhop followed Rory into her San Franciscan suite and placed her wheeled her luggage cart into the walk-in closet. Absentmindedly, she handed the young man a couple of crumbled bills from her wallet as she kept her eyes on her phone while she checked her messages. A voicemail from her mom asking her to reschedule their nightly phone call – it was Town Meeting Night and a text from Logan.

"_This bed is too lonely without you." _

Her mouth curled into a coy smile as she took her bottom lip between her teeth. She couldn't tell if he was intentionally quoting Alicia Keys to be cute, or if it was an honest attempt at re-visiting their days of somewhat awkward sexy texting. Eager to find out, she hastily came up with a reply, one that managed to balance the fine line of mocking Keys and keeping up with the hint of sexiness.

"_Don't wanna hold my pillow - I wanna hold you…"_

As Rory waited for her phone to buzz once again, she quickly washed her face free of make-up, changed her business attire for her comfy PJ's and laid out her clothes for tomorrow, before climbing in to her king size bed and checking her phone again, though the little envelope in the upper left hand corner was absent.

Her smile dropped to a frown; she and Bridget had a 7:15 breakfast meeting with the head of the West Coast division of HPG and the clock was creeping towards 12:30… sleep sort of outweighed engaging in an exchange of semi-seductive text messages and, honestly, at this point, Rory was more interested in hearing his voice go on about how Lottie singing the Dora the Explorer song at the top of her lungs.

Rory's chuckle filled the far too big suite as she noted that this was just another way things were changing and she held the phone up to her ear. He picked up on the first ring.

"Hey Ace!"

She smiled, happy to hear that he sounded delighted to hear her voice. "Hey you."

The line stayed silent for a beat – Rory could almost see him smirking – before Logan spoke. "So, I got your text…"

"Yeah…?" Rory asked teasingly, as she pulled the covers up a little higher.

"Yeah," Logan confirmed with a breathy sigh, before Rory interjected again. "I figure I'd help you out with the lyrics to that song…."

"Lyrics?" The confusion is his tone was obvious.

"It's an Alicia Keys song," Rory informed him with a light laugh.

"Who?"

Rory rolled her eyes at her husband's ignorance of music. She should have known that with his limited knowledge of pop music, he wouldn't have linked his text to a song lyric. "Are you serious?" she asked.

"Like, yeah," he quipped, changing his tone to that of typical high-school bimbo. Rory smirked and carried on using a similar tone of voice. "She's, like, super-famous. Like, sold, like, millions of records and downloads and stuff and she's won like a billion Grammys famous. And oh my god, she sings that song with Jay Z, you know, who's totally married to Beyoncé? They are, like, such a hot couple."

Logan waited a beat, letting Rory's amusing description sink in. "Sorry, Ace. Doesn't ring a bell."

Rory sighed heavily in reply. "What are you – 80?"

"Ugh, this modern music these kids listen to nowadays," Logan joked. "These boys with this flat-ironed hair and with these tight pants singing in these pitchy voices about burning up and being paranoid… It's all lost on me."

"Oh! Now hold on!" Rory yelled playfully. "No need to bring up the Brothers! That's a low blow!" She smiled as Logan's laughter made it's way through the line. "Besides, babe, I can't help that our daughter likes their music."

"Oh right, it's all Nessie's fault."

"Naturally," Rory shrugged, as she sat up a little in bed. "Speaking of the little one, how is she?"

"Sleeping peacefully," Logan reported. "In her Cinderella outfit."

Rory couldn't help but smirk at this revelation. Ever since Finn had opened her to the world of princesses and fairytales she'd become obsessed with wearing her Cinderella gear. "She still hasn't taken it off?"

"It took twenty minutes to convince her to ditch the plastic heels and tiara." At this, Rory let out a loud laugh and fell back into the pillows. "She's a stubborn one."

The smirk was practically audible in his tone. "I wonder where she gets that from."

"Must be your side," Rory teased and Logan good-naturedly shrugged his reply. "Naturally."

A moment of silence passed between them. Their banter was one of Rory's most cherished times of the day. Sometimes it was just nice to savor it. Rory eventually broke the silence. "I wouldn't worry about it, babe. I'm sure she'll get sick of it soon…."

"I hope – almost wore the pearls and tiara to my video call with Europe this afternoon."

Rory's brows furrowed in confusion. "Because it was a fancy affair?"

"No…" Logan said, "because I was "cordingly" invited to Princess Lorelai Charlotte Huntzberger's Tea Party. I even got a hand-drawn invitation."

"Oh! Right!" She suddenly remembered. "You've got the home office set up and everything!" However, if Lottie was bothering Logan when he was supposed to be working, this set-up wasn't going to work.

"Are you sure the princesses' tea parties aren't getting in the way of more important things – we can talk to Mitchum…figure something out."

"Tea parties are important, Ace. And I get the work done, so it's okay and hell, even if I called in with a plastic crown on my head – big deal. I'm a fashionable kind of guy – I would've made it work!"

Rory could tell by his tired tone that Logan was still struggling to find a good balance, but at this hour she didn't want to get into other solutions so she simply smiled into the phone and humored him, "I'm sure you would," before letter a little sadness escape through her tone. "I miss you guys."

"I miss you too, Ace," Logan replied warmly. "So tell me, what's going on in San Francisco?"

She kicked off the covers and propped herself up on the pillows. "Same old, same old tomorrow. Meetings, interviews, book signings, cheesy morning show tapings. Bee's kicked in into high gear for this one, but it's a lot of fun. We're having fun."

"I'm glad. You sound like it…I hope you get a chance to venture into the city tomorrow," Logan paused poignantly, "It's weird that you are in San Francisco."

Rory knew exactly the weight that her husband's statement carried. Way before there was a Lottie, book deals and New York penthouses, Logan proposed San Francisco. Instead of a night in a suite, she could have been sleeping in a house with a big yard and an avocado tree.

"Yeah, I know," Rory told him. "We could have been here together hiking on the weekends, biking…"

Logan chuckled sincerely. "We would be drinking coffee on University Avenue…"

"… or eating homemade guacamole," Rory added with a sigh.

"Yeah."

"It's weird, right?" she asked, "How it turned out for us, I mean. Not according to plan…"

"Well, you did marry me…" Logan laughed, causing Rory's lips to tug upward and he continued in a more serious tone. "Plans were never our thing, Ace. We were casual, spontaneous. Up, down, left, right. We were a complete circus in college!"

"We were exciting!" Rory noted with a wistful smile. Her mind had a weird way of categorizing what was exciting. Spending drunken nights on the floor crying over his non-calls and their stringless ways was hell the first time around. The bridesmaids and the spontaneous weekend breaks to Vegas almost tore them apart. And the Male Yale Parties and Logan's incessant teasing wasn't thrilling; in reality it was stupid.

"We're still exciting, but different," Logan offered his viewpoint. "I would change it for the world."

"Yeah." Rory said, though the tiniest bit of insincerity peaked through.

He didn't notice as he brought the conversation back to the real world. "What time's call tomorrow?"

Rory sighed forcing the twisted trip down memory lane away. "Bee will probably start banging down my door at 6:00 for a pre-breakfast-breakfast," Rory said. "I should probably hang up soon…"

"Yeah…" Logan nodded, but he couldn't resist a little fun before hanging up. "So text me some time…I forget how big those California beds are."

"Big." Rory informed him dryly. "Lots of pillows though."

A loud, genuine laugh crackled through the line. "I love you, Ace."

* * *

Rory had spent the entire afternoon sitting in a modern purple lounge chair, answering the same fifteen questions for the endless stream of journalists. She had shaken so many hands, smiled politely at dozens of faux-compliments or badly timed jokes, but as much as she wanted to hate this fake spiel, Rory couldn't. Rory waited for Bridget to drag in the next contestant, but instead she slammed the big wooden door shut with a bang. "Cooper from was the last one for today!" Bee announced cheerily.

"What?" she checked her watch, "It's only 5 o'clock."

"I know!" Bee gushed, "We're in time for cocktail hour!"

Rory cocked her head to the side, observing Bridget's happy dance. "No evening engagements?"

"Nope." Bee laughed and started to pack up her clipboard and laptop, before turning to look at Rory. "Oh, don't look so sad, puppet. Our next free night isn't until next week. Of course, we'll be in Vegas by then, so that's the biggest silver lining in the world!"

Rory laughed as she got up from her chair. "So… what are we going to do tonight?"

"I don't know what you are going to do, but I've got a date with Bradley Jones from The Chronicle."

"Seriously?" Rory was amazed. "We've been in town for a day and you've got a date."

"Well…" A smile tugged at Bee's perfectly painted lips. "We chatted after his interview. I'm sure you remember how these things go from your dating days," she giggled.

Rory shook her head. "Not really. Guys just didn't come to me…"

"…like moths to a flame, baby!" Bee exclaimed excitedly.

Rory snorted amused. "You do realize that moths die once they hit the flame, right?"

"All the better," Bee shrugged, "who needs baggage and commitment and crap? Unless, obviously, his name is Logan and takes you to a fucking castle to get married. Otherwise – don't even bother."

Bridget would have to let that go. Yes, her wedding had been the ultimate fantasy, but a great wedding didn't equal a great marriage. Not that her marriage wasn't good, but it wasn't the fairytale Bee had come to see it as.

"Your guy is out there," Rory told me with a reassuring smile. The blonde turned on her heel and shot Rory a pointed look. "His name isn't Bradley, Gilmore, so don't get your hopes up."

"Just be careful, Bee."

"Yes, Mom, I will," she said in a fake-annoyed voice. "Curfew?"

"I trust your judgment." Rory quipped back.

"Excellent." Bridget rubbed her hands together excitedly. "Now don't let me find out that you've been up in the hotel room all night watching cable TV. At least order a dirty movie or send a sex-text to that husband of yours…."

Rory self-consciously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, causing Bee to laugh and suggest something a little more tame. "Drink a glass of wine at the hotel bar?"

"That I will do."

"Goody!" Bee gave Rory a quick hug good-bye. "Have fun. Be safe. Tomorrow 8 o'clock in the lobby – we've got book signings and we've got to be on the road to San Diego by 4!"

It was a nice bar, modern and spacious. The lounge chairs were upholstered in the same deep purple as the chairs in the conference rooms and placed strategically around the lobby. Rory quickly spotted the big silver counter lined with plush purple and silver bar stools and headed for the bar.

* * *

"A glass of red wine, please." She felt slightly uncomfortable, sitting at the bar, waiting for her libation, alone. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been in a bar by herself. Bars, even classy ones like this, were a rare occasion on her date nights with Logan.

Rory gratefully took a sip of her fruity red and swiveled her stool so as to observe the other patrons. She wasn't the only one that was alone. In fact, the room was mostly filled with business men and women. Some busily pounding the keys of their laptops and blackberry-phones, others quickly adding that last swipe of lipstick before meeting for post-work drinks and dinner-dates. Regardless, the crowd all looked the same to her, a sea of tanned blondes, one or two glossy brunettes, but there was one person her eyes kept jerking back to.

He noticed him from behind. He was talking to one of the obscenely tanned males, his gestures animating whatever point he was trying to make. The simple black sweater he was wearing threw her off, but his broad chest framed by perfectly square shoulders and muscular arms looked more than familiar. His hair was much shorter than she remembered but she couldn't fathom a reason for him to be in San Francisco of all places.

But she instinctively knew it was him. Rory wasn't sure she believed in fate but she did marry Logan, which she longed believed to be her destiny. And with her recent trip to Philly and bonding session with Bee running into him here was just a coincidence.

Once she realized that her eyes hadn't moved from that spot between his shoulder blades for a good five minutes he whipped his head around, an annoyed expression gracing his face, as if he felt some random person's eyes burning a hole into his back. Rory was caught, but his expression softened considerably as he realized just who had been staring at him.

It was him. Oh yes. It was Jess. And he was striding towards her. His chin tilted the tiniest bit upwards, his brown eyes as intense as ever, that crooked little smile in place.

Huh. Some things never change. Though Rory had no time to actually contemplate that observation.

Shocked, she swung her chair back to face to bar so hard, she banged her knees against the trendy silver counter. Rory bit down on her bottom lip hard and she was pretty sure a bright crimson had flushed her face.

"Should I have not…?" he asked, pointing his beer bottle at her. "I thought…? "

"No.. ," Rory waved her hand, causing her barstool to swivel, "it's just…" she tried, but his presence and the movement of her chair distracted her. His confused, but amused look didn't help much either. "and I… so.. uh." She finally managed to grab on to the bar, bringing her chair and her jumbled thoughts to a stop. "Do you want to sit down?"

He effortlessly hopped onto the seat and waited a minute for her to regain her composure. "How you doing?"

She turned her head slightly to look at him. He looked good, grown up. Short hair, business clothes. Confident, in control. The chip on his shoulder had melted completely. That intense look hadn't disappeared though. "Good," she replied with a nod. ""How bout you?"

"Starved," Jess said, "you wanna…?" he cocked his head towards the exit. No matter how fancy his clothes, it was obvious that purple-decorated trendy bars made him uncomfortable.

"Me too."

"In the mood for anything in particular?" Jess asked as he threw down a couple of bills to cover their drinks.

"Nothing with a guy's name in the name, please," Rory said, "you know, Daniels, Pierre, Wolfgang…"

"Right…" Jess nodded, slightly taken aback by how Rory casually mentioned names of these multi Michelin star joints. "…So I guess Joey's Pizza is out?"

Rory laughed as she slipped on her coat. "I thought you didn't like restaurants with foodstuffs in the name? Chili, Olive, Pizza?"

He smirked a little – glad to know she hadn't lost her sense of humor – "I know this burger joint."

"Perfect."

And just like that, she and Jess made their way out of the bar and into the San Franciscan night.

* * *

**I know. I KNOW. Believe me, I know what you are all thinking. I went there, too. It was dark and twisty and exciting. But, trust me when I say that it will be alright. So. Just put the pitchforks down and vent your frustrations in the reviews!**


	9. Like Old Times

_It's not you – it's me. I swear. I'm sorry. I know y'all have been dying for an update and I haven't provided. It kills me, especially since the notes I have on this story promise to deliver a delicious follow up to NYN I. _

_But. _

_I just couldn't write. _

_I got caught up in the world of "Love Game" (so it took me a bit to get back in the NYN world) and with finishing up college (I graduated with honors on the 'ole thesis) and then vacation (I'm at Dad's now and he has a pool. And it's sunny, like, all the time) and then figuring out what to do with life (um…still undecided). So, I've been busy. It's no excuse, but it's all I have to offer. _

_Rory and Jess met in San Francisco – where's she's currently promoting her book – and they are going out to dinner. That's where we left off and this Jess & Rory thing has to run it's course. And it's more about Rory than it is about Jess-and-Rory, just so you know. _

_Hope some of you readers are still out there and that you still like and that summer's been treating you well! _

_Love!  
_

_Disclaimer: I do not own GG. _

* * *

The burger joint Jess selected was just that, a joint, a hole in the wall type of place. No valet parking and no reservations. It was the type of place that was under the radar, maybe even perceived as seedy. It was somewhat out of the way, in a back alley and the bulb in the "O" of the neon open sign flickered.

It was one of those places that would've been thick with smoke had smoking been allowed in restaurants and where old rock music cut through the speakers. The tables were few, just twelve or so, and made of thick wood, lined with red-and-white checked plastic. The chairs were cut from the same sturdy wood and wobbled a bit, as the hardwood floor was the tiniest bit warped.

"The burgers here are the best," Jess said as he swung open the heavy wooden door, "and the refills on fries are unlimited." These were selling points she needed to hear, and she thanked him with a smile.

A quick nod in the direction of the waitress as he lead Rory to a small table in the corner made it clear that it was okay just to sit anywhere they pleased and he picked up one of the plastic coated menus off the table and handed it to her, before flipping up his own menu to peruse. Silence fell over them and an eerie sense of familiarity crept over her.

Luke's, sixteen years old, tutoring. So much unspoken conversation, so many stolen glances.

Rory felt Jess' eyes on her and she couldn't stop the smile that played at her lips. Looking up, she met his gaze, but didn't speak. Under the scrutiny of his stare, she felt slightly uncomfortable, as if no time had passed between them. As if he'd call her 'Doogie'.

She was in her Emily-approved bedroom in Hartford, nervously trying to justify her temporary lifestyle of DAR functions and community service, while he did nothing to hide the disappointment in his eyes.

Tonight, she couldn't detect any disappointment, despite her present day Prada and the diamonds that sparkled even in the dimly lit room.

"Are you nervous?" he asked.

"Yeah," she nodded, reaching for her cup of water, "it's been a long time."

Truncheon. Philly. That kiss.

He cocked his head to the side and shrugged, easily – water under the bridge. "That it has."

Instead of letting the conversation fall back in to a lull, she spoke up. "I was surprised to see you, you know, on the West Coast."

"A chance meeting at Miss Patti's annual Daffodil Dance would seem more likely…" Jess agreed and a chuckle escaped her. "As if you'd ever attend a Patti produced show!"

"Luke goes."

"Because Mom makes him."

Grumpy-gone-fishing Luke had long disappeared now that he was a happily married man. He went to Patti's get-togethers not because Lorelai forced him, but because he wanted to. Rory knew just as well as Jess that this was just a shtick between them, but instead of diving into the analysis Jess just cocked his head to the side and shrugged.

"So… you here on business or pleasure?"

"Oh, business," Rory said, "a book tour actually – I.. uh…wrote a book." Suddenly feeling self-conscious, she tucked a loose hair behind her ear. She'd received pages full of critical acclaim, even winning over her biggest critic (Mitchum!), so why did she feel so anxious about gaining his approval?

His eyebrows didn't shoot up in surprise like hers had all those years ago, instead his lips curled into a knowing smile as he reached for his briefcase and produced a copy of New York Night.

"You read it?" she asked, not able to hide the surprise in her tone. Obviously, she kept tabs on his work – she'd read every book he'd published after The Subsect, but the protagonists in his writings were deeply complex and emotional characters negotiating their way through a cleverly woven suspenseful plot. Intelligent and acclaimed. And it wasn't that her book wasn't clever or deserved the praise it had received, but it wasn't something she thought Jess would read.

"You sound surprised?" He waited a beat to continue. "I read it – glossy cover to glossy cover."

Rory's eyes dropped to the cover of the book. It was pitch black, with a high-gloss sheen. Pink swirly letters spelled out the title and her penname, Charlotte Danes. It was girly and fashionable. Designed to meet the market.

"My agent and the head of the publishing house thought it'd appeal better to the target market," she offered; Jess nodded slowly and Rory further clarified, "You know, chicks. It's chick-lit."

Without taking his eyes off her, he picked up the book, as if he were to examine it. " Yeah, I got that. It was good, though." The corners of his mouth turned upwards in a reassuring smile.

"Yeah?"

"What, you don't think so?" He paused and his wide, surprised eyes narrowed and his lips curled even further until they were fixed in an amused grin. "I mean, you've got some nice blurbs." Jess casually flipped the book and dropped his eyes to the back cover and read one out loud, "Get lost in promising new author Charlotte Danes' world of Noah and Ella, which includes, but isn't limited to: backstabbing employers, black cards, castle weddings, a pregnancy, depression, unemployment, crazy friends, loving family, a lot of laughter and love. A wonderful modern and dreamy story readers of Cosmo can't help but love!"

He looked up at her, shaking his head sympathetically, "I guess I don't have to ask how you've been."

Jess had meant his statement sincerely, but Rory did not want to travel down that particular lane of memory. Instead, she laughed lightly, shrugging. "What can I say – circumstance inspired me. And the blurb is nice, but there a so many things I'd change."

"Yeah?" he asked, briefly wondering if she was talking about the story, or alluding to her life.

"I'd keep everything but the back cover."

"Huh." An involuntary smile as he remembered the time he'd uttered those exact words to her.

"It's scary."

"What?"

"To write. Bare your soul for the world to see…"

"Well, there's nothing wrong with that," Jess told her, taking a sip of his beer before continuing. "Circumstance" as you put it, inspires me, too."

"Really? Which book? 'Notes Left'? she questioned excitedly.

Notes sprung immediately to mind as the story followed the tale of an intelligent but detached man, unable to form a lasting bond with anyone apart from his notebook. There are lovers and jobs, but it never results in a family or career. He travels, though it's basically running. He ends up alone, leaving only notes, a small memento of a life never lived to the fullest.

Rory had been deeply touched by the story; as she viewed it as the story of an unchanged Jess. And she'd like to think that she'd inspired the shy, book smart character with radiant blue eyes.

But Jess shook his head. "Mostly elements, in every story. Most of the main characters have crappy starts in life, they are confrontational when it comes to small stuff, non-confrontational when in comes to big stuff – they run. To beaches and small towns, mostly."

Rory chuckled. Beaches and small towns sounded about right.

"But I get what you're saying," Jess continued. "It _is _scary. It's your kid – each book. At least to me… I don't know if having an actually one yourself changes that?"

"No, it doesn't," Rory sighed, "I'm as protective of the book as of Lottie."

Jess smiled, the peculiar situation not escaping him. Wasn't it yesterday that he was a seventeen year old punk in a small town? Since when did they have careers and kids?

"Does is get easier?" Rory asked.

"Nope," Jess sighed, "unfortunately it does not. Each book is a new chance for reviewers to wield their pens as ego-deflating swords…but it doesn't really matter."

"No?"

"Nah, I write for myself. Not to meet sales targets or appease critics."

Rory nodded her head slowly. NYN was written because she wanted to write it, for herself and for Lottie. And maybe, as a reminder of the rocky start she and Logan had and why she should cherish that relationship. But now it was definitely about sales targets and critics; without either, Mitchum wouldn't see a publishing house as a fruitful endeavor…

Rory squeezed the lemon in her iced tea. "So, what brings you here?" Emptying a pack of sugar before slowly stirring it, she continued, "Obviously, you aren't here to please the boss, or critics or meet targets…"

"I'm on vacation," he said, "trying to get some inspiration and I'd never been to San Francisco and it's where the cool kids are…"

"Ah, and you're a cool kid now?"

"Always was."

He kept his eyes on her – his gaze as strong and slightly unnerving as it was at seventeen - and she didn't avert her eyes, but she didn't let herself think of her particular situation either; she was in the moment.

A unexpected moment with Jess; they were just two old friends who'd happened to have run into each other at a hotel bar.

"You visit trendy purple bars as vacation?" she asked suddenly, remembering that the venue wasn't at all Jess-like.

He shrugged his shoulders, "A tiny bit of business, too" he admitted. Her pressing stare urged him to reveal more than he'd intended. "We're thinking about fusing Truncheon with a publishing house out West and we need some investors…"

"Investors?" she repeated intrigued and leaned her elbows on the table. "Really? How much?"

Jess could tell that she was mentally going through her (or, at least Huntzberger's) database of West Coast potentials.

"A substantial amount."

"Jess," Rory sighed. She was talking business, serious numbers, but he wasn't giving in. He just shook his head. "You're acting like you're ready to whip out the ol' checkbook…"

"Am not! And you wouldn't take my money, anyway!" Rory shook her head, "you'd want to do it on your own."

"Damn straight!" Thinking the subject was dropped, he took a swig of his beer, but Rory wouldn't let it go. "I just know some people who might be interested… investing in a project like this…"

"What project?" Jess put down his beer bottle. "You haven't even seen a proposal!"

"Forward it to me," she told him in a matter of fact tone, "I'll see what I can do." She sat there, across from him, her blackberry already in hand, awaiting his message.

"I'm not a smart phone kind of guy," he said, no hint of apology in his tone. Not even in his eyes as she shot him a bemused look. "I'm not," he assured her and she reached for her purse. Not a second later she thrust her business card in his hand. It was the same glossy black and swirly pink letters as her book cover.

"Fine," he gave in – after all, the little business he'd been conducting here hadn't exactly been successful, "but copy me on every email. And just forwarding the damn proposal, no meddling."

A look of mock exasperation crept over her face. "Since when do I meddle?"

"I know your grandmother," he shot back lightheartedly.

"Touché."

Their food came and indeed, the combination of best burgers and endless fries kept the old friends seated for quite a while. It was creeping toward midnight as Jess asked her if she wanted another round of fries.

Honestly, she kind of did. She couldn't remember the last time she had this much fun sitting at a burger joint, eating fries and just talking about anything and everything; just the casualness of the situation. She leaned her elbows on the table and leaned in, listening to him tell her about the struggles Truncheon endured and how hard they worked for their success. He, in turn, leaned back in his chair, legs outstretched and negligently crossed, laughing and shaking his head and looking at her with his intense gaze as she told about the good times she'd had on the campaign trail a few years back.

Another round of fries meant that they could carry on and as she thought about it, she glanced around the room and realized that they were the only ones left. How, exactly, had that happened? The place was bustling with people when they came in – they even had to wait a little while for their order to be put through, that's how busy it'd been, but somewhere during a conversation that never lulled and eyes that never traveled, the place had emptied.

"Probably not," Rory said with a heavy sigh, "Bee has an early morning planned…"

Jess nodded understandingly, "Where you headed?"

"Vegas," she said, but as the words left her mouth, she wasn't so sure. Over the specific details of her itinerary she'd drawn a blank. "At least, that's where we're ending up."

"Seems like a good place to close the show," he said and gestured for the waitress.

Rory reached for her wallet, but the look he gave her made her put it away. On the few occasions she could remember in which they'd gone out to eat, get ice cream, or gone to the movies, he always paid – she would've never thought to grab her wallet, but tonight she did. Maybe to emphasize the mantra that had been ringing in the back of her mind – old friends catching up! - and going Dutch seemed like something old friends would do.

"You staying at the purple bar hotel?" Jess asked as he neatly placed his credit card back in his wallet and Rory nodded. "I'll walk you back."

She nodded again, a little more enthusiastically this time and for the millionth time that night Jess shook his head.

Rory wondered what that meant; this new mannerism (or maybe it was something he'd always done and she'd just forgotten about it). Still, there were so many similarities, so many things left unchanged, but also so many things that had changed. Not only in herself, but in him, and them, too. It was as if it was just dawning on her that _everyone's _life, not just hers, had moved on.

"Hey, how'd you know about the burger place?" she asked, looking up at him as he lead the way into the cool San Franciscan night. "The best burgers and all that, if you hadn't been here before?"

It was dark, but she knew a wry smile had captured Jess' face. "I've actually been to San Francisco before. Just for a night."

"Really? When?"

"Nine, ten years ago," he said and his head cocked to the side, "and I read on a blog that it was still here." He dug his hands into the deep pockets of his leather jacket.

Mentally, Rory counted back in time, though it didn't take long for her to realize Jess had been in California then. Leaving her, letting her step out his life, just as easily as she stepped off of that bus. She didn't know, but he left Venice just as swiftly, easily as he left Stars Hallow and she imagined that he must've travelled North, before hitch-hiking and day-laboring his way cross country once again.

She understood why he'd given somewhat of a cryptic answer to her question – he didn't want to talk about it, and really, she didn't either – so instead, she gave him a playful jab. "You read it on a blog?"

"So?"

"Seems so out of character," she said teasingly. "I mean, you avoid a blackberry like the plague, but you'll hop on the blogging bandwagon?"

"There's not hopping, there's no bandwagon," he assured her, "I'm reading them – not actively participating in the blogosphere."

"Blogosphere," she repeated, gently mocking, flashing her pearly whites to the dark night.

"Whatever," he said, a roll of the eyes clear in tone. She was just about to strike back, but she stopped short at the revolving door of her hotel. The red plush carpet (as if laid out, just for her), the doorman, the limo pulling up to the valet parking, the bellhops with their shiny silver carts.

Back to her old life.

She turned to him, one had gently touching his forearm. "Thanks for dinner," she said softly.

"You're welcome," he said, resting his eyes on her.

Two involuntary smiles and for the briefest of moments she thought he'd lean in a kiss her. She practically felt his lips on hers but he didn't. Not even close. He stepped back, his crooked smile still in place.

"Good luck on the rest of your tour," he said, "and let me know about the investors."

She nodded slowly. "I will."

And with that, he turned, heading back down the street. She did not stand there and watch his retreating figure, instead, she entered the hotel quickly and was greeted by the doorman with a polite "Mrs. Huntzberger." Rory was pretty sure a bright crimson had taken over her cheeks, but the doorman was too polite, too used to these circumstances to comment on it.

All of the sudden, she hated fate. Yes, Jess had been on her mind a lot lately, but that meant nothing. It was just because she'd been to Philadelphia and because of Bee's incessant prying. Though, tonight, fate had to make her spot him across the bar.

And they went out. Just like that, simple and easy, for burgers and fries. And they talked, like adults. Not too much about business, or families, or kids, but they didn't run out of conversation; they probably could've talked 'til dawn and then some. He was still as smart and witty as he was at 17 (and at 21, for that matter) but less cynical, more grown up.

And she, she was different, but he brought out something – a feeling, a state of mind, _something_ – that she feared she'd been losing every since dining at Daniels and toting expensive designer bags had been more the rule, rather than exception. He saw past that shiny society veneer and still recognized her, knew her, like he always had.

Besides all that, though, it was still Jess. And for Jess she hadn't harbored real feelings since a long, long time. Even before that fateful night in Philly. She was in love with Logan, just confused and confusion was as part of her relationship to him back then as sweet texts and romantic dinners are today.

So tonight, she could, theoretically, chalk up to nothing, Rory thought as she restleslly lay in bed, she reasoned that the look in his eyes at the end of the night was something she just wanted to see. After all, he reaffirmed that she was still Rory Gilmore as she'd always been. And to do that, he had to draw on memories from long ago. And that look and wanting to feel the rush of his lips on hers was part of that. But it didn't mean anything – she was just caught up in the moment.

Rory cast a quick glance on her cell – it was now past 1:30 and call time was soon. Much too soon. She disregarded the small envelope in the corner of her phone. If something urgent had happened on the home front Logan would've called and tonight, she just couldn't muster up the energy to reply to his texts, especially because she had a much heavier subject weighing down her thoughts.

To tell, or not to tell him about this dinner?

* * *

_It's a little cliff hanger. And I'm speeding up the rest of the tour and heading back to NYC for next chapter. So. Yeah. Let me know what you think? _


	10. The Unexpected

**Surprised to see an update so (relatively) soon? Me too. But, you know, exciting developments in this story as well as in my life. I'm back from a fabulous Florida vacation and starting my first post-grad job Wednesday. Keep your fingers crossed for me? Then I'll keep mine crossed that you like this! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own GG**

* * *

There were just three more days left on the tour. Bee promised her that. Originally, the West Coast tour was supposed to be a two week event, but it'd been so successful, that Bridget kept on adding dates and locations and Rory complied. After all, she wanted it to be a successful venture, not only for HPG but for herself.

It was almost the end of August and she was holed up in a Chicago hotel room. It was their first free night in a week and she and Bee were staying in – all Rory really wanted was a grab cheeseburger and take a hot shower.

"Just three more days" Rory had to remind herself. She was tired. Despite all Bee's insight and organizing ways, she'd underestimated the popularity of "New York Night" and the demand for Rory's personal appearances. She'd never been quite this kind of busy and never quite this kind of tired.

The crowds at the Boarders bookshop in Los Angeles were so massive, the signing was extended and the dinner meeting that was supposed to follow became a breakfast meeting, which Bridget spent on her cell, re-scheduling the rest of the events planned for the week, all while trying to avoid calls from the SF-writer-guy who had fallen madly, desperately, head-over-heels in love with her.

While Rory was never adverse to hard work, she was finding the fast-paced-yet-repetitive nature of the business a little too much. It wasn't just the novelty of her month-long tour wearing off; she wasn't happy. The blank pages of her journal proved that and the concept notebook she kept for new book ideas still had the plastic around it, hadn't even been opened.

Maybe she could chalk it all up to her still missing period, or maybe to missing Logan. Because she did. Probably more than she cared to admit.

When she finally made it back to her hotel room, she was beat and could conjure up just enough energy to shoot him a "what's up?" text and fall asleep after devouring her room service plate. And she could tell by his replies ("Same old, same old. Miss you. Love you. Lottie too.") that he was tired, too. Tired of playing the single Dad, tired of long-distance, tired of her not being there with him, tired of getting his hopes up.

She thought a hot shower would sooth, but it just served to aggravate her depressed mood. Her heart throbbed in her chest as her breathing intensified and hot tears welled up in her eyes. This was so stupid. She wanted this, hadn't she?

Maybe not. What she wanted had been Old York, right? But that was so long ago she wasn't really sure. Her career had been taken from her so she turned to writing, becoming an author. And she really wanted success, wanted to prove that she could still be something without Old York and HPG.

But the book she wrote was inspired by those wrongdoings and she dangled her USB-stick and Logan's career in front of Mitchum to get it published. Driven by the desire for success, she became manipulative.

And now, here she was, in a luxury suite, her success bought by HPG's marketing dollars; she hadn't done it on her own - but everyone applauded her like she did.

As this realization dawned on her, she suddenly despised it all. That thick glossy coat on her business cards, her number one spot on the New York Times bestseller list, all of the journalists prying into her private life ("is it true that Noah is inspired by Logan Huntzberger?"), the Bieber-esque crowds that swarmed to the bookstores.

Perhaps Jess' approach to writing was better – at least he still had some artistic integrity, at least he knew who he was. Small presses and tours at local bookshops instead of big box ones. Non-stop writing and experimenting, even if it's crap, instead of waiting for inspiration to come.

The worst part – and how stupid she was to just realize this now – her ass was Mitchum's. He had hooked her with his pretty words. Yes, they'd wait to see if it was successful before taking further steps and no, he wouldn't pressure her into writing more, but, yes, she could write more books...it all sounded great, but Mitchum could've said anything as long as he promised to get her book published.

Selfish, that's what she'd been and now she knew that Mitchum had preyed on that; he'd been strategizing all along. She could attribute her success to him. Obviously, he wouldn't have backed something that wouldn't yield results. Knowing Mitchum, he already had Bee planning her next tour or negotiating movie deals or an ABC Family series.

Visions of annual cross-country book tours flashed through her mind along with Logan and Lottie's disappointed faces. She heard Logan shouting in her ear, reminding her of promises she might not be able to keep.

Oh, what a mess she'd gotten herself in to. Nothing, of course, was set in stone, but it felt all too real and it was enough for her to reach for the phone.

It rang six or seven times before someone picked up. "Hello?"

Even after all this time, it was still strange to hear a man's voice on the other end of the line. She wanted to ask for her mother, but her voice cracked.

"Rory! Are you okay?"

"It's Rory?" Lorelai's voice was faraway, but the urgency in her tone shone through and brought a tiny smile to Rory's face.

"I'm okay, Luke," Rory said, tying her soft waffle robe a little tighter. "I just need to talk to Mom."

A sigh, the line cracked and another sigh. "I'm sorry, Mom…" Rory said quickly, "I forgot about the time difference."

"Don't worry about it, kid. Are you okay?"

Rory bobbed her head from side to side as she contemplated that question, forgetting that her mother couldn't see her through the phone. "I don't want to write another book," she blurted out.

"What?"

A wry smile cracked on her lips, as Rory pictured Lorelai's shocked face. She repeated it more slowly, rationally. "I don't want to write another book."

"I heard you the first time, but…I'm sorry, what?"

"I miss Logan. And Lottie."

"Okay," Lorelai said slowly, "Then you pick up the phone and you call them. You fly home to see them. Or you bring them with you on tour. Or you figure out something. You don't just give up your writing career you worked really, really, really hard to for!"

"I didn't…" But there was no denying that Rory did work hard for her career. HPG's corporate planning and marketing dollars could only go so far. Deep-down she knew it was a faulty argument. She drew in a sharp breath. "I was supposed to be a features writer for Old York. A journalist, not someone who used the implosion of her personal life as inspiration for a novel."

"Sweets, life gave you lemons and you wrote an entertaining and very successful book. Next time, you'll write something Pulitzer worthy," Lorelai tried to offer some perspective. "And it's not HPG's marketing that made it a success; that's you, hon. Or is Mitchum the one out there with Sharpie pen blisters from signing thousands of copies?"

"Well no….but Mitchum has plans. Mom, he's got to have plans. And Logan wants another baby! How are we going to do that?"

"I'm pretty sure you know how that works, honey," Lorelai laughed a bit and Rory rolled her eyes. "I meant with me off on tour every year!"

"I'm sure Mitchum understands the logistics of the situation. He wants another grand-chicken, too. He loves Lottie, too, you know? It'll work itself out…"

Rory took in a couple of deep breaths. Her mom was right. The freak-out was premature. Maybe Mitchum wouldn't be so bad? And maybe she did deserve all of her success. Making the best out of a bad situation and all of that. But still. She wasn't just freaking out about that.

"I saw Jess," Rory volunteered suddenly. "A couple weeks ago. In San Francisco. We had dinner."

her voice dropped to a whisper: "And sex?"

"No!" Rory practically shouted – as if she'd been caught red-handed, but Lorelai chuckled. "Okay, then what's with the "I-cheated" tone?"

"I don't have the "I-cheated" tone!" Rory replied indignantly, but Lorelai's prolonged silence caused her to cave. "I didn't tell Logan."

"Rory…" Lorelai sighed.

"Mom! Nothing happened. I swear. It was like a business meeting…"

"A business meeting?" Rory could almost see Lorelai skeptically raise her eyebrows.

"Jess is looking for an investor to back his latest book," Rory explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"And you can't tell Logan this, because?"

"I don't know," Rory shrugged, "I figured he'd take it wrong."

"Well, I guess it is kind of hard to fit in a text message."

Was that accusation in her mother's tone? "We talk, too," Rory defended lamely.

Lorelai was too tired to fight, especially about this over the phone. "I know," she relented. "Hey, so you are going to talk to Mitchum about the terms of your contract?"

"Yeah, I guess….you'll help me make a pro-con list?"

"I will."

"Thanks Mom. And I'm sorry about the freak-out."

"No problem, hon. I'm here – always."

Lorelai hung up and fell back into her pillows. Luke's arm covered her waist protectively and with his thumb he traced soothing circles on her side, but sleep didn't come.

Maybe she should've told Rory that Logan and Lottie had been staying Stars Hallow. They'd arrived last weekend unexpectedly. Logan fumbled something of an excuse; he thought the End of Summer Parade was that weekend and Lorelai didn't have the heart to turn to the forlorn looking boy away (because, in that moment, he looked like a lost little boy) and so Lottie and Logan took up residence in Rory's old bedroom. Logan casually said he could to his HPG work from anywhere, so that they might as well stay that week. It'd be fun, too, for Lottie to watch the preparations.

The desperation in his plea was all but tangible and Lorelai didn't pry, but she knew the bags under his eyes weren't because he was staying up all hours of the night talking to Rory. And Lottie slept like an angel.

She wasn't Emily and she wouldn't meddle, but this Jess-thing was unexpected, but Lorelai didn't think Rory would cheat (she hated that she doubted that!). Still, it didn't bode well that that Rory was keeping secrets from her husband.

Obviously, something was up and Lorelai knew it was best for all parties that she was back home.

* * *

Three days later, Rory kissed Bee's cheek before exiting the limo and making her way up to the top floor. Mitchum was expecting her – he was the one who had his secretary instruct Rory to visit him first thing the plane landed.

Normally, Rory would've protested, especially because it was a Sunday and she was aching to get home, but because she was particularly interested in talking to Mitchum herself, she didn't put up a fight.

"Rory!" he greeted her with serious smile. "I trust you've been following your progress on the List?"

"Absolutely," she nodded and held up three fingers. "Three weeks and counting."

"In this internet driven age, that's practically unheard of!"

"Your marketing dollars worked hard." Rory expected his eyes to harden, but instead he grinned. "I like that. I like that a lot." And he laughed, before extending his arm, gesturing for her to take a seat.

"We need more of that around here," he told her while he fixed two cups of coffee. "A lot more. I'm sick of sycophants. I'm sure you can agree."

Rory took the coffee and sipped it as she stared at Mitchum in confusion. What was this all about?

"I'm not sure I know what you mean…"

"Oh, I'm sure you encountered it on the road. The suck-ups jumping through hoops because of the Huntzberger on your card…"

Rory gently cocked her head as she thought of all the penthouse suits she stayed in. Yeah, she knew exactly what he was talking about.

"There are some perks…" she tried and Mitchum laughed again. "You've seen one suite, you've seen 'm all, but corporate sycophants are much worse." He picked up his coffee as if he was going to take a sip, but he put it down.

"I wanted to talk to you about your future."

Rory swallowed. Maybe this conversation would not be as pleasant as Mitchum pretended it was going to be.

"You see, there have been some changes around here with you on tour…" Mitchum paused and examined his hands. He folded them, and rested them on his desk. "…I've been quite generous considering the contract and the history, but it was agreed that that contract was not to be abused."

"But, my contract… I've done everything you've asked of me," Rory eyes darted across Mitchum's face. A two week tour that become a month-long, twelve hour book signings, endless phone interviews while they drove on to further destinations. If anyone was being abused, it was her! Anger flickered in her eyes as she locked them to his. Was this some kind of sick joke?

A hint of amusement (and maybe pride?) glimmered in his. "Not your contract, Rory. You've – well, HPG's better to have you..." he sighed heavily, "I'm actually referring to Logan's."

"Logan's?"

Perhaps embarrassed by his son's failure, he broke off eye contact. "Surely you are aware he hasn't been in the office since you left for your book tour?" Rory was not, but being a dutiful wife, she pretended that she was and nodded dumbly, hoping that her heartbeat was only loud to her ears.

"Now, I understand that he's quite the family man and does not want to leave Lottie in the care of that very expensive au pair I offered him," he broke off and momentarily put his eyes on her, " - peculiar that you don't employ one - but I do expect him to carry out his duties for HPG."

"Of course," Rory nodded. She'd devised the contract so that Logan wouldn't have to go on endless business trips and be at Mitchum's beck-and-call. She simply couldn't believe he hadn't been in the office for a month! He loved his job, didn't he?

She swallowed again, trying her best to sound in control of the situation. "And you've talked to him about this?" Rory bit her lip; she should've known about any Logan-Mitchum smack downs.

"Ah, deaf ears, my dear. He doesn't listen," he shook his head in disbelief, "claims that work isn't everything and that Lottie is much more important. He's actually…" something of a laugh escaped him "…is staying in Stars Hallow with your mother and stepfather! Preposterous!"

Mitchum carried on at Rory's stunned silence.

"Regardless of his living arrangements, I cannot terminate Logan's contract, but quite frankly, I've found other staff who are just as capable to take his position. He won't be missed and he won't miss us. Although, I suppose being ostracized can do that. Of course, you and I would be ostracized if we did not show our faces for a month…." He sighed and made a vague gesture with his hand before continuing, " Of course, you do understand that I wanted Logan to be a prominent person in the company as it is his birth right, and I'd hoped that this position would be it – perhaps that's why Milton got away with implementing those ridiculous training schedules - but I've finally made peace with his disinterest in his legacy."

Rory was stunned. Logan disinterested? Just up and left? Hadn't he agreed that HPG was his destiny? He'd been going on and on about the consultant gig forever, so much so it put a wedge between them two years ago? Obviously, there had been some kind of a major kind of falling out between father and son. Rory clenched her coffee mug, but didn't drink from it as she tried to order the thoughts in her mind.

Apparently, Mitchum was okay with Logan leaving. Interesting. She looked at him; he seemed lost in thought and his years were visible on his face. Deep creases lined his mouth and were slashed across his cheeks. He was now completely bald save for a few feathery strays and the evil, vibrant gleam in his eyes was just a flicker of what it used to be. He still cut a relatively strong appearance, but it was clear that he was weaker than he used to be.

And she thought she heard some kind of apology squished between his solemn monologue, but she wasn't sure. Maybe she could use this to her advantage. Oh, guilt bubbled up immediately. Of course it was wrong, contemplating staying and hearing Mitchum out, without hearing Logan's side of the story, but she'd probably never get another chance to see Mitchum like this. Weak, hurt, willing to negotiate.

Maybe she should try to defend Logan, convince Mitchum that Logan hadn't turned his back on his destiny, but she couldn't. Not with Mitchum's solemn voice piercing her memory.

She drew in a deep breath. "So, now what?"

Her crisp voice brought Mitchum back. He coughed. "I want to demote Logan. Give him a superficial role; just to keep up appearances and the family name." He caught the look in her eye and addressed her concerns. "He'll take it, Rory. He wants out. You know he wants out."

It just didn't make sense. Why? But Rory shrugged apologetically, "You know how he is," she offered with a vague gesture.

"I do."

"I'm sorry, Mitchum, but why are you discussing this with me?"

"You wrote up his contract. We'll have to discuss the new one. Which brings me to my following point." Half of his mouth twisted upward.

"My contract?" Rory matched his twisted grin and Mitchum pointed at her. "Bingo."

This was her chance, what she'd been waiting to tell him since she'd entered the door. "I don't want to write anymore, Mitchum," Rory quickly blurted out and she braced herself for the yelling that was sure to follow, but Mitchum nodded deeply and surprised her. "I know. You forget, Rory Gilmore, that I have pretty good gut feelings about things."

"Right," Rory rolled her eyes – he hadn't called her Gilmore in forever – "so what? You want me to be your PA?"

He grinned again, not caring about her change in demeanor, "We're moving forward with Book Publishing and I want you to head that department."

Rory 's brows furrowed together in confusion, "But Bee…?"

"…is a contracted agent. Like some of the guys we are hiring," Mitchum explained, "But we need someone to scout fresh talent and manage them once they are in. Listen to the writer, listen to the agent. Work with the editors, an extra pair of eyes to scan manuscripts. Listen to marketing men for sales pitches. Someone with a drive and a passion and assertiveness, like you. Someone who knows that industry and can seed out the ones who'll be crying in their hotel bathroom after a month on the road…"

Rory swallowed hard – had Bee told Mitchum about that incident? "And obviously, you'd be free to write, if you'd want, but I doubt you will…."

"Why?" Rory interjected hotly. It didn't matter that she'd just admitted she was done with the road, but it irked her that Mitchum (pretended?) to know her so well.

He shrugged unapologetically, "New York Night was an opportunity to launch with a bang – I knew we'd be successful. After all, who doesn't want to read a love story and juicy society scandal? But all the glitz lost it's sheen on the road, didn't it? And with this, you'd be right here in New York, up to your eyeballs in manuscripts. In fact, I'm willing to bet you have someone you are itching to get published."

Jess.

His grin widened as her eyes lit up. "Am I right? Of course I am. I'm rarely wrong."

He took her silence to mean truth and he reached over to pat her hand. "I'll need to know by tomorrow so we can get you set up the rest of the week."

There were so many things to say, but she couldn't say them to Mitchum. He'd played her again. She thought she was the manipulative one, but this little stunt proved that he was still the master. And she couldn't even be mad at him, because what he described was exactly what she wanted to pitch. She was the girl for the job – she knew the hardships of the road to tell who was man enough for the job and she'd read enough to know what was worth publishing and she knew she'd love it. She'd be in New York, nine to five, and with Logan.

But what would Logan say? Was this way he was in Stars Hallow? Because of Mitchum's stunts? Or maybe his own – she couldn't believe he just left! - And why didn't anyone let her know?

Damn it.

Rory hoped that the look on her face revealed that she was overwhelmed – not utterly confused – and she smiled at him, promised to call him and stumbled out of the office. She needed coffee. And maybe a taco.

* * *

**I know what you are thinking – she dropped the Jess-bomb on us last chapter and now this whole mess! It doesn't make sense! **

**But it will, I promise. Obviously, things happened when Rory was away on tour and with Rory and Logan's communication skills are at an all time low so bad things were bound to happen. Rory didn't tell Logan about Jess and he didn't tell her about HPG-drama. Seems fair, right? And now Lorelai is kind of on Team Logan, while Mitchum is kind of on Team Rory. And of course, there's still a Jess-thing and there's the whole baby-thing, too. **

**What can I say? It's complicated. But it'll work itself out, I promise. **

**Review if you didn't expect this...mess! **


	11. Sunday Night Fights

**This is for Hyacinth79 who has read and reviewed every single chapter of the New York Night saga in a matter of weeks. **

**And for everyone else, too. Because I'm such a lousy updater. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own GG. **

**

* * *

**

Rory came home to an empty apartment. The house was clean; the blanket draped over the couch just-so and Lottie's toys organized in such a particular way that Rory knew it was from the hands of a maid.

It was a stark contrast compared to the last time she came home from a tour. Both Logan and Lottie carried big grins on their faces as they waited for her in the lobby. They had chatted non-stop in the elevator and Logan swung open the door with an apologetic smile. Lottie's blocks were strewn across the living room floor. The blanket and couch pillows were a makeshift fort and pile of pink glitter shimmered on the kitchen table – the remains of an art project gone awry.

All she did was shrug and press kisses on both of their cheeks. So what if her home wasn't clean? It was obvious Lottie and Logan tried to have a good time while she was gone and now they were glad to have her back. A little spilled glitter was worth that.

She bit her bottom lip as she walked into her spotless kitchen and flipped the switch on the coffee maker. Waiting for her elixir to brew, she glanced up at the clock. It was 4:30 on a Sunday afternoon. If Logan left now, he'd be home by 6:30. She scoffed, annoyed. What if she hadn't spoken to Mitchum? She would've come home to an empty house and not have known where her family was.

Of course, she could call a car right now and be in Stars Hallow in a few hours. She could call him. Let him know that she was home – but she didn't, still undecided what to do with Mitchum's information. And, besides, he should've been here. He knew she was coming home today!

The date hadn't changed in a week and she promised that she'd forward her flight information to him. Rory poured coffee, splashed in some milk and absentmindedly tossed two cubes of sugar in her cup, before returning to the living room. From her Prada, she retrieved her phone and, scrolling through her sent messages folder, she realized that she had never forwarded the information to him. Shit.

In fact, the last message she sent him was two days ago. She'd been in Milwaukee doing an 8:00 am – 8:00 pm book signing. Her text message read: "Crazy busy day. The coffee at Boarders is better than Barnes & Noble, but still not great. Can't wait for real coffee. Miss and love you and big kiss for Lottie."

That's what she talked about? Coffee? Even when he was in London and she was finding it difficult to deal, she'd written better texts. This was pathetic. But it was also pre hotel bathroom tears and pre life changing conversations with Mitchum. And she was unhappy. Maybe she had hoped Logan would've picked up on that. But he didn't. "There's a new place right down the street which has good coffee. We'll go. We'll take Lottie. Soon, right? Love." But she didn't pick up on the unhappiness in his text either.

It was easy to text "love" but apparently much harder to follow through. Four weeks apart and they'd come completely undone. Rory was now thoroughly annoyed and out of coffee, she threw her cell down on the table and walked away.

* * *

It was 7:00 pm by the time she heard a key in the door. She had installed herself on the couch, sweat pants and a fitted white tee, and popped in a Friends DVD to take her mind off things. It hadn't helped, but she pulled the blanket up a little higher and pretended to be completely involved in Joey wearing maternity pants to Thanksgiving Dinner.

She could hear Lottie talking a mile a minute and laughing happily from the hallway and as her baby's voice grew louder, she felt Logan's presence fill the room. She paused the DVD and looked up.

"Mommy!" Lottie yelled excitedly and Logan – lips pursed - kneeled down to let her go. Lottie's chubby legs quickly carried her to her mom and she pulled herself up on the couch and wrapped her arms around Rory's neck. Rory smiled at her daughter and Lottie pressed a wet kiss on her cheek. "Oh Mommy!" she screamed elatedly.

Rory smiled at her enthusiasm and embraced Lottie to give her a proper hug. "I've missed you!"

Lottie pulled back slightly, her big curious eyes full of happiness. "How much?"

Rory put on a mock-serious face, eyes squinted and lips pouted, and thought about it for a moment or two.

"Very, very, very much!"

Lottie's lips pulled into a satisfied grin. "Very, very, very much!" she repeated and as Rory tried to press a kiss on top of Lottie's soft curly hair, she let go and scooted off the couch and back to Logan.

Rory's eyes traveled from her daughter to her husband and she was relieved to see him smiling now. It was a small smile, but a smile nonetheless.

"Welcome home, Ace," he said, tipping his head forward. "I'm going to put Lottie down for a nap and after that, maybe we should talk?"

He let his words linger in the air, something of a threat attached to him, as if she was the one in trouble. Instead of picking a fight right then and there, she simply nodded. Fact was, they needed to talk and somewhere it did her good to know that he was taking control.

Maybe Mitchum had been wrong after all?

Without waiting for her to reply, Logan scooped up Lottie and as he walked past Rory, he brushed a quick kiss on her cheek. It wasn't warm or passionate; his hands didn't reach down to cup her ass or try to pull her in closer.

A little hurt by his coolness and a little jealous that Lottie was clinging to Logan's neck, Rory headed for the kitchen.

* * *

The mood was tense. Without Lottie as a buffer, Rory and Logan stood in front of each other, the breakfast bar separating them, waiting for someone to break the silence.

"Ice cream?" Rory asked suddenly and taking a step away from the counter. "You want?"

"No thanks," Logan shook his head and smiled tightly. "I'm going to make a drink."

She sighed, wondering if maybe she should fix a drink, too. This was going to be a conversation that warranted a few stiff drinks.

"Glad to be back?" Logan asked as he busied himself with his tumbler and scotch. His words were kind, but they stung just the same. The quasi-interested tone, the polite smile, the somewhat distance gaze. It was as if he was talking to a business associate instead of his wife.

"I am," she nodded. Same tone, same gaze. Rory waited a beat - fed up with the weirdness that had somehow crept between them – and locked eyes with him. "I missed being home."

Logan couldn't help the scoff that escaped him. "You did?"

"Of course," Rory was offended, "why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know… you were so busy. Maybe you didn't have time to miss us." With that, he turned on his heel and headed towards the living room.

Rory followed him, with quick urgent steps. "That's not fair to say," she said, ignoring the guilt she felt. "The tour was a lot different from what I expected, but I couldn't just walk away, could I? I have obligations and responsibilities…"

Logan's mouth dropped open. "You talked to Mitchum!" he accused hotly. "That's great, you'll talk to him, but I have practically beg for a fucking text message." His head shook in frustrated anger. "That's just great."

Rory ignored his sarcastic statement, but jumped right on his accusation. "Mitchum called me! No one told me anything; I walked in there completely unprepared. You should've told me, called me – why didn't you?"

His gaze shifted and he turned away from her, perhaps trying to hide his annoyance that he'd lost the upper hand in this argument so quickly. "You were busy. I had it under control."

"You did?" her eyebrows shot up unimpressed. "You went to Stars Hallow." As he didn't respond, she repeated it, slowly, allowing each word to sink in, reflecting the impact of the situation. "You left HPG. Packed up. And moved to Stars Hallow."

His eyes met hers once again. "I didn't leave and I didn't move," he told her slowly, matching her patronizing tone. "I did the work. Just from home. Never violated a letter of my contract. Designed by you and approved by him, remember?"

"Yes…" Rory nodded slowly, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. Mitchum had made it sound as if Logan quit. Ostracized and not willing to work. Gone off the deep-end.

"I'm not putting in 75 hour weeks anymore, Rory, I'm not doing it," he told her firmly.

"But Mitchum…."

"…is twisted," Logan interjected. "He fed you a story. That's what he does. Our falling-out was nothing more or less than a disagreement about how many hours I should work. He did not like what I was willing to commit. I took Lottie to Stars Hallow for the End of Summer Parade. I got the weekends mixed up, so we stayed the week leading up to the event. It's no big deal."

Logan's version of the truth actually came pretty close to Mitchum's. Of course, in Mitchum's he was the hero, generous enough to offer an au pair and then perfectly gracious to let his disloyal son stay on in a ceremonial position. In Logan's story, he was calm and rational, being the bigger person and playing the doting dad.

Rory knew that the real, honest-to-goodness truth was somewhere in between. She was sure that there'd been strong words, shouting and finger-pointing. She hadn't been there and she hadn't been informed, so she didn't know. Mitchum had seemed reasonably at peace with Logan's decision and it was clear that Logan was adamant about cutting down his hours. But it was still a big deal.

"It's your legacy! And you love the consultancy gig – you worked so hard for it. Don't you remember what they put you through?"

"That was then, Rory, this is now," he shrugged at his simple explanation. "That was before Lottie, before, you went on. Look how much my parents missed – I saw more of my nanny than either of them. I don't want that for Lottie. Look how you grew up. Your mom there for you, completely for you. I want that for Lottie."

Rory shot him a confused look – her childhood wasn't the fairytale he made it out to be. "She wasn't a stay at home mom. She worked hard, Logan …" she trailed off, not quite sure what to say. Lorelai was there for her, but Mia, too. And Sookie and Patti and Babette and Luke and even Michel.

Logan shrugged, "Lorelai was there for you in a way my parents never were."

"Yes," she agreed, annoyed that he was making this an issue. "It doesn't matter. You can still be there for Lottie and work, too. I don't understand, Logan. You loved your job…" She scanned his features, but couldn't detect any of that love for the job anymore. "You know he wants to demote you, right?"

Logan clacked his tongue. "Yep. A ribbon cutter. That's fine. I'll show up for HPG events, I'll even write or edit from home, if that's what he wants but as far as being an heir and doing things because it's my birthright – I'm over it, Rory. I told him and he didn't want to hear it…"

"Why?" Rory shouted, enraged at Logan's lax demeanor. "How can you say that? And _how _could you have not called me?"

"I told you…"

"It is a big deal! You had this massive smack down with your dad, Logan. You not wanting to work for HPG is a big deal. You giving it all up for…"

"Don't say that, don't you dare…" Logan narrowed his eyes to slits, "I'm not "giving it up", I'm making it better. Do you want Lottie to grow up with parents like mine? A dad at work all the time and a mom too involved with charities and chianti to care about their kid?"

"Lottie won't grow up like that!" Rory shouted, frustrated that Logan was stuck on this romanticized version of her childhood, "She knows we love her and we wouldn't just leave her!"

"No, we wouldn't, because someone is home," he shot her a pointed look. "You know when you were on tour I missed seven networking events…"

"Hey!" Rory jumped in, appalled at his backhand way of saying that she was just like Mitchum. They talked and agreed on her going on tour. He was the one who encouraged her to get her book published, he constantly brought up how proud he was and how great her reviews were. And now he was likening her to Mitchum!

"I'm not saying you're like Mitchum, Ace," he snorted and let out an aggravated sigh, "I wanted you to go on tour and write and do all of that, but we also talked about being here for Lottie. And with you gone, that responsibility fell on me and I embraced it. But, that also meant that at night, I played catch up for the work I couldn't do during the day…and I'm not going to do that anymore."

Rory bit down on her bottom lip in anger as hot tears welled up in her eyes. "Just lay the guilt on thick, Logan. That's nice. Really nice." She didn't bother to wipe away the tears, but she sniffled in anger.

"I'm not trying to make you feel guilty," he said, frustration clear in his tone, "I'm trying… to explain how it is. I can't be with Lottie during the day and work at night; I want to be 100% committed. And get some sleep at night. And you, you want a career – and that's okay…."

"So I'm the bad guy? The selfish one?" she wiped away her tears and not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her upset, she got up to walk away.

"Ace!" he called out after her, sighing heavily, "It doesn't make you the bad guy!"

She stopped short in the hallway and turned to him. "It does!" she yelled. "Oh, Rory's a bad mom because she doesn't want to stay at home with the baby. Oh Rory's a terrible wife for leaving her husband behind to go on a book tour. Oh, Rory's a terrible person for wanting to be more than just a society wife, Oh Rory…"

He tried to place his hands on her shoulders, in an attempt to calm her down, but she swatted them away, still shouting, still crying.

"I never said any of that, Rory," he shouted instead, his deep voice finally drowning out hers. "And I don't think that either."

His eyes locked to hers and her blood-shot and angry eyes held his gaze, and she took in in a few deep breaths as she waited for her tears to subside. Finally, she crossed her arms. "You implied." Her tone was icy, so cold that Logan didn't speak, allowing for her to continue.

"What do you know, anyway? You know what Mitchum and I talked about?" She didn't give him a chance to respond. "My future career and guess what? No more books." She wanted to walk away but he stopped her.

"What?

"I told him. No more writing. No more books. No more tours. No more not being home."

Logan dropped his head in shock, and muttered, "Dammit, Ace. What did he say?"

"That I should head Book Publishing instead. Scout talent, proofread, mediate between authors and agents, seeing as I've got firsthand experience and all." There was a hint of smugness in her tone, although she wasn't quite sure why.

Logan, clearly, wasn't impressed as his expression changed from surprise to a complete look of being pissed off. "So him publishing NYN was just a good way to generate lots of interest in the new division?"

"That's…" she wanted to say "not true", but because it was true she settled on "cynical".

"No, that's Mitchum." He scoffed again, "Well, I hope you told him no."

"Logan!"

His head tipped back in disbelief. " Oh come on, Ace!" He groaned, before looking at her again. "We were off the hook. No more obligations or contracts…"

"Well, if I knew that you were going to be Mr. Mom, I would've handled it differently," she snapped, "And besides, there's always obligation…"

"Yeah, but HPG obligation is different. Mitchum obligation is different. You know him, you know better."

"I'm not 22 anymore, Logan. I know how to handle Mitchum. And I said yes so that I could be in New York, seemed better than a life of traveling and writing chick-lit…"

There was something of genuine hope and sincerity in Rory's eyes. It was obvious to him that she really believed that this career move was for the best. It confused Logan for Rory had been so anti-Mitchum a few years ago. But maybe time had mellowed him out, after all, ol' Mitch didn't kick up too big of a big fuss after Logan bowed out. Maybe this new situation would be okay – certainly better than they were now.

"Okay," Logan nodded eventually, "If it's what you really want…"

"It is."

"Then congratulations are in order." Logan extended his hand and she took it, a little unsurely. A reassuring squeeze made her smile, just a little, and he pulled her in closer, before pressing a gentle kiss on her head.

At his touch, the tension seemed to ebb away. Her arms wrapped around his neck and he rested his hands on the small of her back. They stood there for a while; she missed his touch and he missed how sweet she smelled.

And despite not having come to a satisfactory solution, the fight was over.

"I really did miss you, Ace," he whispered, before pressing another kiss on her head.

She pulled back and smiled. "Me too."

Slowly, the couple made their way back to the couch and Friends resumed playing. Heavier things, like Jess and her still-missing lady friend, were topics Rory pushed to the far corners of her mind. And Logan left questions that floated through his mind (did Rory really think she was a bad mom? did she really want to quit writing; had she been that unhappy on tour?) to be asked another day.

Rory rested her head on his chest, falling asleep to the rhythmic beating of his heart. And Logan was just happy she was there.

* * *

**Ugh. I know it took me forever to update and then I give you this! No solution, just more drama. **

**I know it's kind of a departure from the happiness I created at the end of NYN, but you know, I try to keep a sense of realness in my stories and I think career vs. family life is something a lot of people struggle with. And I think, since Rory has such a great mom, it's something she struggles with more (trying to fill Lorelai's shoes and all that). And if you recall, way back when Logan found out Rory was pregnant, he was worried about how to be a good dad and this is him dealing with that. **

**So. Yeah. Still diggin' it? (I'm keeping my fingers crossed. Ha!) **

**Review if you think Jess will make an appearance next chapter (!) **

**Much love! **


	12. A New Page

**Considering the drama that went down last chapter and the drama that is imminent, I might've gone a little overboard on the cuteness. Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own GG **

**

* * *

**Monday morning. Seven o'clock. No hotel coffee, no automated wake-up call, no Bee talking a mile a minute about corporate targets and sales projections and changes in the itinerary.

Instead it was just Lottie (a natural wake-up call) and Logan, who made her coffee (no one made coffee quite like him, not even Luke) and spoke sweet, encouraging words about how she would dazzle the HPG-crew and reel in a bunch of new writers and make the new department a roaring success.

"And…" Logan continued as he tried to maneuver Lottie in her high-chair, "I'll even make you whatever you want for dinner tonight."

"Dinner tonight?" Rory smirked a little and narrowed her eyes to flirtatious slits, "Even your famous Lemon Chicken?"

He turned around and locked his eyes to hers. "With rice."

Rory's mouth popped open, as if he'd just told her an amazing secret. "What? Do my ears deceive me? Has Christmas come early to the Huntzberger home?"

Logan laughed and Lottie – not one to be left out - gurgled and clapped her hands at her parent's antics. "So, I'm making you a little Lemon Chicken and Rice. How often does one get to celebrate his wife's new career?"

"Hopefully not very often," Rory said jokingly, but her tone couldn't hide the seriousness in that statement.

"You'll be fine, Ace, I know it…" he said, grabbing Lottie's hands, which were about to pick up her breakfast bowl of oatmeal. "Bowls on the table, Ness. Spoon in hand. Spoon to mouth." He said as he put down the bowl, picked up the spoon and guided it to her mouth.

Rory leaned against the breakfast bar and wrapped her hands around her coffee mug. Lottie and Logan sure made a cute couple. It was stuff like this she missed when she'd been out on the road and yet she couldn't stop her mind from going back to those dreadful, unemployed, pregnant days. She wondered if Logan would come to regret his decision.

"It's 7:20, Ace," Logan said, without looking back at her, or at the clock.

She glanced up and saw that he was right. "Oh crap! It's probably not the best idea to show up late on your first day, huh?"

Rory could still hear Logan's laughter as she made her way down the hall. Exactly fifteen minutes later, she was back at the breakfast bar, gladly taking the fresh mug of coffee Logan had provided her.

"Thanks for this," Rory said after gulping down half the cup in one sip.

"Don't I always make sure you're up and caffeinated?"

"I meant with Lottie and you know…" she waved vaguely at the messy kitchen counter, "… all of this..."

He pulled Rory in for a hug. "Don't worry about it, okay?"

She nodded into his chest, but wasn't quite ready to leave his comforting embrace just yet.

"You survived the tour and Bee, a corner-office gig will be like a walk in the park!"

"On a rainy day, without an umbrella?"

"Blue skies and sunshine, Ace."

Rory lifted her head off his chest and stood on her tippy toes to give him a kiss. "Thank-you."

"You're welcome," he smirked, "and I'd stand her all day, but Ness and I have tea parties to attend and coloring books to complete, and you have to get to work."

Logan lifted Lottie out of her high-chair, "Say goodbye to Mommy, Nessie…"

Lottie's chubby little arms shot forward, flailing around in an attempt to grab Rory's silk blouse and, without thinking, Rory took a step back. "Oh, honey," she cooed to her daughter, "I'm sorry but sticky hands and silk blouses don't mix." So she blew Lottie a kiss instead.

Logan, balancing Lottie on his hip, trying to keep her away from the blouse, leaned in to press a quick kiss on his wife's cheek, before Rory slipped out the door. "See you tonight!"

* * *

Rory slowly opened the door to her new office. She wanted to remember everything about this moment; the way her slightly sweaty palm felt on the cool door knob, the scent of old wood, fresh coffee and new office supplies permeating the air in her office, the slight flutter of butterflies in her stomach.

When she had called Mitchum to tell him that she'd take the job, he'd told her that he'd give her a dream office to make up for all those endless hotel room nights and gas station coffees, but this completely exceeded her expectations.

A beautiful oak-wood desk sat on the far side of the office, a wall of windows behind it. Mitchum had selected a soft brown leather desk chair, which looked was big enough to curl up and fall asleep in. Two, smaller matching seats were on the other side of the desk – the place where potential HPG-author's would sit and find out the future of their careers.

Two brass floor lamps with flower-print lamp shades flanked two corners of the room, while big potted plants stood in the others. Mitchum had also included an oak bookcase, lined with all of her favorite books and photos in silver frames of her, Logan, and Lottie at Lottie's most recent birthday. A small dresser was on the other side of the wall, placed on top a vase of sunflowers, a popcorn maker, and the piece de résistance, a brand new coffee maker, with a lifetime supply of Colombia's finest roast.

It was the perfect office; a perfect balance between cozy, homey and business-serious. She loved it and couldn't help twirling around and running her fingers across the backs of those books, much in the way she did in her childhood bedroom.

Smiling, she fished her cell from her purse and texted Logan.

"_At the office. He got me a popcorn maker. In addition to a coffee maker. Already loving this job!" _

She waited for the beep of her phone to signal the message had been sent, before plopping down behind her desk. Rory didn't have to wait for her computer to boot up, plan, or strategize; she knew what her first order of business was.

"Truncheon Books. Chris speaking."

"Hi Chris. This is Rory Huntzberger. I'm looking for Jess Mariano…?"

Chris let out a low whistle. "Huntzberger, huh? Yeah, Jess is around, he's definitely around and I'm going to go find him for you…ma'am."

Rory let out a breathless laugh as she heard Chris mutter an excited _holy shit _and yell things she couldn't quite make out at Jess.

Jess sighed into the phone, but Rory cut him off before he could say anything. "You know Chris called me ma'am?"

"At least he's polite…"

"…and impressionable…"

"Well, it's not every day a Huntzberger calls…"

She sensed some irritability in his tone, which was understandable since she hadn't exactly been in touch since their San Franciscan dinner.

"I know," Rory winced a little, "I'm sorry I haven't called Jess, but I've been so busy. That's um…why I'm calling now, actually."

"Yeah?"

A little flame of nerves burned in her stomach as she broke the news. "You're speaking to HPG's newest, and I might add only, Book Publishing Manager."

"Sounds…impressive." But it was clear he wasn't impressed.

Rory spun around in her desk chair, taking in the view of New York City. "I've got brass floor lamps and a popcorn maker in my office."

Jess snorted and she imagined him shaking his head. "Well, if you're just calling to gloat…!"

"I'd never!" Rory replied in mock indignation. "I'm calling because I haven't forgotten about your proposal…"

"Rory!" he balked at whatever idea she was going to put forward but she shot him down.

"Stop whatever you're thinking, it wouldn't be like that."

"Care to explain how exactly it wouldn't be you swooping down from your high powered position to help out the little guy who just so happens to be an old friend?"

Rory leaned back in her chair and contemplated what Jess was saying. Of course he wouldn't agree to this easily, after all, she herself had always been acutely aware of making it own her own merit. She glanced around her beautifully designed office and ignored her hypocritical thoughts.

"It wouldn't be like that," she shrugged.

"How?"

"I don't swoop," she retorted, "and besides, it wouldn't be Mitchum Huntzberger you'd be dealing with, it'd be me. I want you guys to have the success you deserve."

The line was silent for a while as Rory kept her fingers crossed that she'd been convincing enough, but Jess scoffed.

Rory clacked her tongue. "You do. I'm serious. Signing with HPG can give you the exposure you guys deserve and things wouldn't change. We'd just take care of all the corporate stuff. On both coasts."

"It's a generous offer, Rory..." Jess sighed, "... but things aren't so bad that I'd resort to charity."

"It's not charity, it's business with legal documents and business meetings. It'd be on your terms."

"My terms," Jess repeated slowly, some doubt audible in his tone.

"Talk to Matt and Chris about it," Rory suggested, "Or come up to New York and we'll do lunch and chat about it."

"Well 'do lunch'?" Jess repeated sarcastically and she rolled her eyes. "That's what they say in the biz."

"And you've been a manager for how long? Three hours?" It was clear that Jess was teasing her now and she laughed, "About two and a half – I'm a quick study."

"I can tell…" Jess sighed quickly, but deeply, as if he'd made up his mind. "Look, let me talk to the guys and I'll give you a call…?"

A grin started to spread across her face. If she could sign Truncheon that would be amazing. With their creative talent and Huntzberger Publishing Group's power, the venture would have to be a roaring success. Success she wanted, to validate her new corporate standing and success that Jess deserved. He'd done really well for himself on his own, but Rory knew that with HPG backing him, he could do better.

* * *

At five thirty that afternoon Rory opened the door, greeted by the smells of lemon-y chicken and the rambling voice of her two-year old.

"But you can be a princess, Daddy," she heard Lottie say in a matter-of-fact voice. She was wearing that Cinderella costume, sitting in her high-chair, her arm resting on the plastic table top, chin resting in her hand. She was intently watching Logan cook, her plastic tiara slightly off-center and her plastic glass slippers lay forgotten in the corner.

Rory smiled to herself – apparently they'd had quite the busy day.

"A prince. Daddy's are princes and girls are princesses," Logan explained patiently as he stirred a big pot of rice.

"Uncle Finn is a princess."

Logan chuckled – his little girl had a point. "Uncle Finn is special…"

"Daddy, too!"

Rory smiled at the same moment a loving grin captured Logan's face and Lottie laughed a laugh that came from her core, as if she'd just told the funniest joke in the world.

"I'm home," Rory called out, wanting to participate in this sweet moment. Lottie clapped her hands and Logan pressed a quick kiss on Rory's cheek. "Dinner's in five."

"Excellent. I'm starving."

"Busy first day?"

"Yeah, but good busy," Rory replied as she grabbed a couple of plates and a handful of utensils to set the table.

"Did you try out Jimmy?"

Rory laughed, "I'm saving him for a popcorn emergency. But the coffee maker Mitchum found is amazing. You'll have to call him to find out where he got it."

Logan looked at her in disbelief - they owned 7 top of the line coffee makers - and Rory widened her eyes and pouted her lips. "Please? Eight will make a complete set!"

He glanced over to his daughter for support, but Lottie had taken on Rory's expression. "Please Daddy-princess? Please?"

At that, he snorted and shook his head. "This kid is too much."

Rory pressed a kiss on top of Lottie's head of soft brown curls. "Well, I think she's cute."

"Because you can use her to manipulate me!" Logan cried in mock-outrage.

"Just for coffee." Rory shrugged and winked flirtatiously, but he wasn't touched by her blatant advances. "She's just a child, Ace! A small, innocent, child!"

"Oh, Daddy-princess is silly, isn't he, Lottie?"

Lottie eyed her mother suspiciously, before shifting her gaze to Logan, as if she was deciding whose side to take. The little girl couldn't and cracked up laughing instead. Rory looked at Logan, "What kind of answer is that?"

"The best kind, Ace. The best kind."

* * *

Much later, after a lovely dinner, a choreographed team effort to put Lot down for the night, a glass or two of wine and an episode of Friends, Rory and Logan wound up in their bed.

"I'm glad you back, Ace." His chest to her back. "I missed you." A soft kiss on her collarbone.

"Me too," Rory yawned as she tried to make herself comfortable in her nook. "Although, bed time never used to be that hard for Lot."

"Our girl's a regular chatterbox…"

"Now that's something I'll take credit for," Rory laughed back and wrapped her leg around one of his. She was waiting for him to quip back, but she felt the steady rise and fall of his chest and she knew he was fast asleep. His arms wrapped protectively around her, pulled close.

It was comfortable; she felt so safe and at peace. With Lottie's laughter ringing in her ears and what she felt now affirmed that she'd made the right choice to give up the tour. In the still of the night, she was hopeful that she'd be able to maintain this...happiness. And maybe, with that her period would return and she'd get pregnant quickly.

Baby laughter was so infectious.

Visions of Logan's happy face as she broke the new, watermelon feet and sweat-shirts swirled around in her mind, only to be disturbed by the sharp buzz of her cell phone. Text message.

She released herself from Logan's tight hold and reached for her phone.

"_I'm in NYC on Friday. We'll 'do lunch'?" _

* * *

**So a certain reformed hoodlum will be making his return. It's not about rekindling some lost love or exploring better, more exciting (and less comfortable) possibilities. It's about business, alright? **

**Also, you know how much I love reviews but if you want to ask a question, log-in so I can write back! I really wish I was better about updating, but I'm pretty good at writing messages! **

**Anyway, review ****if you think Rory will keep the meeting with Jess a secret! (and if there are any moms (or people who know a lot about babies) reading: is it okay for two year olds to eat oatmeal? And talk so much? Or am I making Lottie into baby genius? Google is not really conclusive!) **


	13. Investments

**Fun fact: most of NYN was written listening to Michael Bublé. **

**Tonight was a Michael Bublé kind of night. **

**Disclaimer: i don't own gg **

* * *

The days of the work week meshed together quite nicely. Logan and Lottie were her personal "good-bye-and-welcome-back-home" committee, both meeting her each day with huge, ear-to-ear grins, telling her all about their adventures involving princesses and tea parties.

While Logan finished up dinner for the two of them, Rory would bathe Lottie and put her down for a nap. He'd come in to Lottie's room, with a glass of wine for Rory and a kiss for Lottie. Then, Rory would tell Logan all about her adventures involving promising manuscripts, office politics and that damn coffee maker.

They'd wash up the dishes, land on the couch and end up engaging in a make-out session more fitting of two love struck teenagers.

Rory couldn't remember a time where life had been so sweet and easy.

* * *

Friday morning found Rory curled up in her plush office chair, one leg tucked under the other, navy blue Nine West heels kicked to her hardwood floor, and coffee untouched on her desk. She was completely captivated by a new manuscript.

It was one of the worst things she'd ever read. It wasn't a satire; it was completely intentional, earnest writing. Clichéd in the worst way, undeniable, but never-quite-right lovers, grand gestures that made Lumley Castle look like a bounce house. Plots were more twisted and over the top than Desperate Housewives and Ugly Betty combined and yet, she couldn't put it down. Because it was good in a guilty pleasure kind of way.

Somewhere around chapter six, as Benjamin turned his back on his family and Rory was squirming in her chair, her phone buzzed.

"_Traffic jam in NYC. I know this is highly unusual. See you in twenty, maybe thirty." _

Jess.

That's right. It was Friday. The Friday that Jess would be in New York. The Friday they agreed to have coffee to discuss his business proposal. That Friday had crept up suddenly and unpleasantly.

She had meant to research and prepare, but she preferred cuddly nights with Logan instead. And, apparently, getting side-tracked by trashy would-be novels. And now, she was going to be late, too!

She let out an exasperated sigh as she doggy-eared the manuscript and tossed it on her desk. The crazy tragic love of Audrey and Benjamin would have to wait (she was pretty sure Ben would cheat, even though Audrey was pregnant!) and grabbed Jess' proposal, plus the outlines of her plans. She stuffed them into her bag as she slipped into her heels. She threw back the last of her coffee, tossed her phone in her bag and was out the door.

* * *

Gilmores never ran, but Rory would power-walk if need be. She didn't want Jess to think she'd forgotten about him and she wanted to be at the restaurant before him. After all, she was a professional manager now and forgetting a client (especially Jess!) was not a manager-like thing to do.

Her heels pounded the gray carpeted hallway with such urgency, Rory didn't see Mitchum approaching and she almost bumped into him.

"Where's the fire?"

Rory met his cool gray eyes, chuckled and shook her head. "No fire, I'm just running late..."

"Big meeting?" Mitchum asked curiously, "Big names? Good names?"

"Um…" Rory fingered her wedding ring subconsciously, "it's kind of a new name, but a good one."

Mitchum stuck out his pointer finger, as if he made a great discovery. "You are smiling."

"I am?"

"Mega-watt," Mitchum nodded, "So it's definitely a good name."

Rory looked away, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious, and shrugged. "I hope, Mitchum. I just hope he's interested."

"That's preposterous!" Mitchum boomed, "who'd in his right mind turn down HPG?"

"Logan," Rory blurted without thinking and immediately regretted the statement.

Mitchum's eye's narrowed to suspicious slits and he turned to her. "Don't tell me you're meeting him?"

Rory shot him an incredulous look. "Logan? No, he's at home with Lottie. Why… why would you think otherwise?"

Mitchum shoved his hands in his pockets and shook his head. "It's not the first time you kids concocted some kind of crazy scheme to loophole your way around contracts…"

Rory smiled a little wryly. "Well, let me assure you it's not him." She'd expected Mitchum to smile his smug smile, but instead he kept his eyes on her, which urged her to confess. "It's Jess."

"Jess?" Mitchum repeated slowly, as if he was running through a database of possible Jess'. "Haven't heard of him…what's so special about this guy?"

Rory snorted in disbelief. What was special about Jess? And poor Mitchum had no clue. "Google "The Subsect". You'll understand. I've got to go."

Mitchum watched as a megawatt smile returned to Rory's face as she pounded down the long corridor and made the elevator just before the doors whizzed shut.

* * *

Jess was seated comfortably in a booth by the window as Rory arrived. She had a look of triumph on her face as she entered the restaurant (considering she'd made it across town in record time) but it vanished as soon as she spotted his gravity-defying head of brown hair and his amused brown eyes.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath as she made her way toward him. "Jess, I'm sorry," she told him as she slid in to the booth. "I was reading this fantastically bad manuscript - the author actually titled it "Pickup Truck Romance" - and the two main characters are just... you wouldn't believe it."

Rory wasn't paying attention to the amused grin that captured his face as she continued her ramble.

"They are lovers, met a county town meeting of a sleepy Southern town and secret meetings by the lake follow - her dad doesn't approve - and first kisses in torrential downpours and sneaking off for dirt-road rides in his truck. There's this scene when he teaches her to drive his pickup truck. Just... Harlequin writers couldn't have come up with it!"

"So how does this great American novel end?" he asked casually, resting his elbows on the table. "I'm intrigued."

A quick grin flashed across her face. "Who knows? I'm assuming they'll get together, but Ben is about to cheat and Audrey is pregnant, so it could go anywhere…"

A deep, appreciative laugh escaped him. "You're clearly invested in this."

"I'm sorry I'm late."

"No, don't be," Jess shook his head, "I'd stay up all night reading that."

"Oh stop," Rory rolled her eyes, "it's a guilty pleasure. I'm sure you have a guilty pleasure - "

"Chick-lit," he interjected just quick enough to catch her off-guard. A quick glance, some flicker of recognition in his eyes, twisted smiling lips. She waved it away. "It'll never get passed my desk."

Jess hummed something of approval and leaned back. "Good to know what kind of business I'm dealing with."

Rory raised her left eyebrow. "So you're saying you wouldn't work with me if I published that kind of garbage?"

Jess opened his mouth, but closed it again.

"What?"

He sighed, "I was going to say that I might not work with you at all…"

"Ouch."

Jess dropped his head to his chin before looking up again. "You know what I mean. This… Jess Mariano doesn't play with the big boys."

"Jess Mariano usually never talks about himself in the third person; apparently things change."

He smirked. "Perhaps."

"Good." Rory tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "So. How 'bout some coffee?"

* * *

They were well in to their third pot of coffee and negotiations were tough. All Jess really wanted was some investment money to expand Truncheon on the West Coast. He didn't want some corporate giant messing around in his business and he didn't want any obligations to churn out books like clockwork. Rory, while she wanted to see Jess achieve massive success, also really wanted "Mariano" to be one of the HPG writers. If that didn't make the new division a roaring success, she didn't know what would.

But Jess didn't care about publicity or making the bestseller list year after year.

"You deserve to be on that list, Jess," Rory pressed, "on every list. On every bookshelf in every house in every town across the country."

He shrugged deeply. "We're just trying to have fun with it, you know?"

Rory bit her bottom lip and nodded as if she understood (she wanted to understand) but all she felt was the meeting taking a turn for the worse.

She took a sip of her coffee and put down the cup with determination. "I want HPG to publish your next book," Rory told him point blank.

"Why?" His tone was filled with more curiosity than offence. "There are a million people waiting to sign with someone like HPG. Why me? Why now?"

"Because you're Jess," Rory sighed into her coffee, "and I've got all this power and a whole department to run and I just thought of you."

He fixed his deep dark brown eyes to hers and raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

"And," she drew out slowly, backtracking a bit, "it'd be good for the company, you know, a guy relatively new to the scene, a smash first book, big, big potential. People are interested, Jess."

"Maybe."

"Look at it this way. The first time you released "The Subect" you had, what, five hundred copies?"

"Sounds about right."

"We'll do five hundred thousand."

He smirked at the impressive sounding number, but shook his head as she missed the point. "But it'd be HPG, not Truncheon. Chris and Mattie worked hard, I want them to get recognition, too..."

Rory looked down at the last sip of her coffee and she realized that Jess wouldn't relent. All he wanted was funding, an investor for future projects, not a new publishing agency. After all, Truncheon was his (and Matt and Chris') life's work; blood, sweat and tears. How could she ever imagine taking that away? She was embarrassed to admit that she even entertained the idea.

"I'm sorry," Rory said suddenly, "I don't know what I was thinking! Truncheon is like your baby and I wanted to take that away from you."

Jess gave her a short nod. "It's okay. I get it."

"But I want to help you."

"Help me?"

"Financially," Rory clarified, "I want to invest in Truncheon."

His eyes widened and a bit of warning crept into his tone. "Rory..."

"It's my personal money, Jess, not HPGs. Not Logan's." At his confused expression she gestured wildly, "I've got a rich dad, remember? It's my back-logged trustfund."

"But..."

"No buts, Jess. I'm dead serious. The West Coast is in dire need of quirky, small publishing houses. I should know, I spent a lot of time out there. I've got the money, you've got the perfect publishing house." She reached deep down in her Prada tote and pulled out a checkbook. "So, how much?"

Jess fiddled with his coffee mug and shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of taking money from her, but Rory wasn't backing down. "I'm not leaving until you tell me how much."

He tipped his head back and groaned. "Why?"

Rory lifted her silver parker pen off the check and met his gaze. "I don't know," she said softly. "Do you need a reason?"

He looked at her intently. "Yeah. I do."

Rory sighed heavily. "I'd just spend it all on Prada bags and Gucci sunglasses anyway. I want to do something worthwhile."

"I'm not a charity case," he reminded her.

"I know that," she told him firmly, "and it's not a gift. It's an investment. I believe in your business. I want reports and updates. I want involvement."

Jess smirked. And he'll never know quite why he said it. Maybe it was her genuine smile, or maybe because he really needed the money but he tipped his head forward and nodded. "Okay."

A satisfactory grin tugged at Rory's lips. "So, tell me, how much?"

"We've projected fifty-thousand dollars..." he pointed vaguely at the fact sheet on the table. "Are you sure?" he asked again. Fifty grand was a whole lot of money. But Rory filled out the check without blinking, without thinking. As if it was a dollar for the coke machine.

Like a true business women, she handed him the check and stuck out her hand and he shook it. And just like that, a significant business deal was made on a quiet New York afternoon.

Jess carefully tucked the check in his pants pocket, before pouring them both another cup of coffee. Conversation flowed away from investments and business deals to more casual talk.

Rory didn't know how long she'd been at the coffee bar, but the shrill ring of her cell phone brought her back to reality. Her display flashed with Logan's number and an uncomfortable nervous sensation washed over her.

"Fuck," she muttered and Jess' brows furrowed at her swear. She gave him a soft apologetic smile. "I'm sorry – it's just… it's Logan."

Jess tipped his head forward sharing her concern.

"Hello?"

"Is everything alright?" Logan couldn't hide the concern in his tone. "Where are you? It's 6:00 pm and you're secretary isn't picking up."

"She probably went home," Rory deliberately responded to that and chose to ignore the rest.

"And you?"

"I'm on my way. I just…" she shifted her gaze away from Jess, "I had a meeting and it ran late."

"Oh." Logan sounded hurt, a little like she used to when she was on the receiving end of those calls.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, "I should've called."

"It's okay, take all the time you need to seal the deal" he said, "I'll make you a plate."

"Thanks," she smiled into the phone (how often had she told him exactly the same?) "but I'm on my way. Twenty minutes, tops. Unless there's traffic."

She caught Jess' smirk out of the corner of her eye and couldn't help rolling her eyes at her comment.

"There's always traffic," Logan said and Rory nodded, "I know," before disconnecting the call.

Jess had managed to flag down a waitress and hand over his credit card to settle the bill.

"I've got a corporate card and this was a business meeting," Rory said as scrambled to get all her papers in her bag.

"For fifty thousand big ones the least I can do is buy you a cup of coffee," Jess said, handing her another stack of papers.

"Thanks," Rory smiled genuinely.

"Your husband's okay?"

"Yeah," Rory sighed, "just concerned. He cooked dinner and I have to be home to eat it."

"Fair enough."

"Yeah." She smacked her lips together a few times contemplating domesticated Logan versus his wild child days. "I had a good time this afternoon."

"Yeah?" Jess asked, mouth twisted up in a smirk, head cocked ever so slightly. "Me too."

There was tension. Obvious, palpable tension and Rory wasn't quite sure where it was coming from. Jess was an old friend, this was business. Logan had dinner on the table. She had to go. "Keep me in the loop on my investment, okay?" she said as she slid out of the booth.

"Will do," Jess nodded, his hand going to his pocket to make sure the check was still secure. "And let me know if Audrey is pregnant and Ben cheats," he called out after her. She didn't look back at him, but judging by her laughter, he knew she heard him.

* * *

Logan was busy with the dishes as Rory made her way into the kitchen. "Hey."

"Hey," he replied absentmindedly as he slid another plate in the dishwasher. She took a seat at the breakfast bar and picked at her plate of cold ziti and waited for Logan to finish.

Obviously, after being on the receiving end of so many "can't make it/sorry I'm late" phone calls, she understood he was upset, but the cold shoulder treatment was a little harsh and she was in no mood to fuel this behavior.

"That tasted a lot better warm," Logan finally said as he closed the loaded dishwasher.

"It's fine like this," she pushed the pasta around on her plate, "think of it as my punishment for missing dinner."

Logan smiled tightly. "You should've called."

"I was just caught up in the deal."

Logan nodded – he knew how it was. "Good deal?"

Rory pushed a fork full of ziti in her mouth. "Actually, the writer wasn't interested."

"That's insane! Who'd turn down HPG?"

Rory looked past Logan to make sure Mitchum wasn't standing in her kitchen and chuckled to herself. "You did, babe."

"Different circumstance," Logan waved Rory's comments away. "So, who is the guy that threw his future away?"

Rory's dropped her fork and wiped her face with her napkin before looking up at Logan. "That's not very nice to say."

"It's true," Logan countered, "Any up-and-coming writer should be lucky enough to write for HPG."

Rory rolled her eyes, "What if that writer was really interested in making a name for himself without a big name to back him?"

"I'd say best of luck to him."

Rory snorted at Logan's sarcastic comment and went back to her ziti.

"Oh come on, Ace. It's your department, you should know, you should be making people believe that! Hell, you know firsthand how the HPG experience works! New York Night is still number one on the charts."

"I know," Rory said quietly.

"So?"

"I should learn that there's more than HPG," Rory shrugged deeply, "Some people like starting new things from scratch and are pretty successful at it."

"Okay," Logan said slowly, quickly trying to analyze Rory's sudden distress "you know that your number one is well deserved, regardless of you last name?"

"I know," Rory said but it wasn't really convincing. Just as Logan was about to ask her to elaborate, Rory cracked under the pressure of his gaze. "It's Jess, okay!"

She slid off the bar stool and walked around Logan into the kitchen to wash her plate.

"Jess?" Logan asked, following her, "Luke's Jess? Stars Hallow Jess? High-school boyfriend Jess?"

"Yes," Rory let out a frustrated groan, "he's all of those Jess' yes."

She turned around, so her back was facing the sink and she was facing him. "What about him?" Logan demanded as he ran his eyes over her face. Her guilty expression led him to draw his own conclusions and they were not pretty.

"Him. He was your meeting? And that's why you're late? And he turned you down? You wanted him to sign with HPG?"

"Logan, it's not like that. He's, I…" Rory cursed herself for blurting out things like this, "I ran into him in San Francisco…."

As she watched her husband's face contort in hurt and anger, she realized that she should've told him; she should've never kept it a secret.

"I ran into him in San Francisco…" she started to explain, but it was no use through his outraged interruptions.

"San Francisco? During the tour?"

"In the hotel bar. We had dinner…"

"Dinner!"

"…and we were catching up…."

"Catching up!"

"…and he mentioned that he was doing some business and ..."

"_What_?" His mind itched to ask her if she took him back to her hotel room, if she fucked him, cheated on him, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. She sensed that was on his mind.

"I didn't sleep with him, Logan," Rory was genuinely hurt by Logan's accusatory look. "This isn't college. I just gave him my e-mail address so he could forward some business proposals."

"And?"

"We met up today, but HPG's vision didn't match with his," she finished her explanation with a small smile, one that she hoped conveyed her sincerity.

Logan waited a beat as looked for truth in her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Good question. Rory shrugged; at the time it seemed like a good idea. "It just didn't seem important."

He scoffed, "it's pretty damn important if we're fighting about it now."

That was true, but she couldn't find the words to agree. "You jumped to conclusions."

"Because you didn't tell me!" he yelled at her, "What would you have thought?"

"I wouldn't…" she tried but Logan cut her off, remembering exactly how Rory would react.

"You would. Remember Bobby wiht a Y?"

"That's different," Rory tried, but it wasn't. "You know what's different?" she asked him, "When you are the one stuck at home all day, the one on the receiving end of disappointing phone calls. That's why you're mad."

"Stop, Rory," Logan shook his head, "This isn't about that. You intentionally didn't call. In fact, if I hadn't called, you probably would've never told me you were seeing Jess."

"I'm not seeing Jess, Logan, it was one meeting!" She stressed that last part, even though she knew I there were going to be more.

"One meeting?" Logan questioned, stepping closer to her and she confirmed with a small nod. "One meeting."

"And nothing happened?" he asked, reaching for her hand. She swallowed and looked at his face. Beautiful eyes, perfect nose, wonderfully kissable lips. Husband lips. She had hurt him and knowledge of the investment would hurt him more. And what happened was an investment, pure business, her money. She really didn't want to fight about this anymore, those lips should kiss her, not yell.

"Nothing," she whispered and put her head to his broad, always-safe chest. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"It's alright…" Logan pulled her a little closer, and his voice returned to its normal soft tone. "I'm sorry, too. Lottie and I had rough day –she got in your closet and accidentally got red lipstick on one of your chiffon dresses. And on the way back from the cleaners she had an accident."

"Oh, honey," Rory ran a hand up and down his back, "I'm sorry."

"If the elevator had rode up in one shot, we would've been fine. Happened right in the hallway."

"Was she upset?"

Rory felt the deep rumble of laughter bubble up in his chest. "I was – we should think about tiling the damn hallway." Rory smiled. "And we had to take her princess dress to the cleaners. Finn got it at FAO Schwartz, it didn't seem like you could just toss it in the wash, you know?"

Rory nodded. "You could've just tossed it in the garbage. We could get her a new one?"

"She'd know it wasn't her dress. It was enough of an ordeal to explain that the nice man at the dry cleaners would clean it just like Mommy's dress…"

Rory was in awe of how well Logan understood their daughter, how patient he was in dealing with Lottie (and her too). "You deserve a gold star," she said as she stood on her tippy toes to kiss him.

Logan kissed her back, deeply and needy and lusty and before she knew it, he'd maneuvered her so that she was sitting on the kitchen counter, one leg on either side of him.

"So, care to tell me how the rest of your day was?" he asked in a low voice, the one that caused butterflies in her stomach.

"No," she whispered, grinning mischievously, her hot breath tickling his neck, and she leaned in for another kiss.

* * *

_Audrey and Ben are a characters from Messing with Forever so kudos to anyone who spotted that! _

_And this, well, should we start with the positive? With all of these kitchen counter encounters the chance of a baby is looking significantly better, huh? However, this secretiveness about Jess is obviously not good. Honestly, I thought Rory would be over it by now, but it keeps coming back. _

_Huh. _

_And the investment, while it's her money, you can't just give fifty grand away without consulting your husband, you know? And also, just FYI, not quite legal. Oops. _

_So, you know the deal. Tension for the next few chapters, at least. _

_Thanks for all the reviews last chapter. Especially the moms (and people who work with children) for all of your baby/toddler advice and stories. Absolutely hilarious to read and so inspiring! And to everyone else, obviously. I was surprised by the amount of love and it absolutely made my week! _


	14. Cookie Dough and Conversations

It was one meeting and one check worth fifty-thousand of her trust fund dollars. That's it, that's all, that's what she kept telling herself. Jess deserved it, with his talent and will, he deserved every opportunity to be successful. And she was granting him that, no more no less.

That's how she was able to ignore the guilt she felt every time Logan looked at her with those eyes, eyes that showed her how much he wanted her. She accepted every touch, every kiss, every cup of morning coffee like nothing had shifted in their relationship.

That should have been weighing heavily on her mind, but instead she was focused on the fact that Jess still hadn't cashed the check. Fifty-thousand dollars. One would think you'd want access to that as soon as possible, certainly when it could jump start a career but as far as Rory knew the check was still safely tucked in the front pocket of Jess' faded blue jeans.

What's more, she should've felt some kind of guilt toward Mitchum, too. Her quest to find new talent for the HPG book division was not a major success as of yet. Oh sure, there were some writers she interviewed with entertaining manuscripts but were they going to be the next big thing? She doubted it. Or maybe her subconscious was deliberately steering her away from making decisions, avoiding being in direct competition with Jess, who, she told Mitchum, hadn't been the right fit for the company anyway. Any day now, she was expecting a memo from Mitchum asking when Rory would find the right fit as they needed to move forward with this project.

Ignoring the guilt and analyzing her poor business decisions were time consuming thoughts and always concluded with the same worry: her still missing period.

At first, it hadn't bothered her so much but as the days turned to weeks and the weeks turned to months, her indifference turned to full-fledged worry. In its absence, she convinced herself that she might be pregnant, but the three negative pregnancy tests in her office bathroom's trash said otherwise.

There were no symptoms, no hint that it might be on its way. No cramps, no moodiness, no absurd urges for chocolate-like-_now_! Nothing. She imagined that she dried out and shriveled up. Dead on the inside. A permanent hibernation.

That thought was too depressing and the manuscript she'd been leafing through wasn't any better so she decided to pack up and go home.

* * *

"Rory? That you? "

Logan's voice sounded warm and excited to hear his wife's key in the door an hour earlier than normal. A hint of a smile played at her lips, but she couldn't help annoyance that bubbled inside her - of course it was her, who else had the key?

"Yeah. I was stuck in this manuscript so I came home earlier..." Rory explained as she rounded the corner into the kitchen. Lottie was sitting on the counter, a cookie-dough beater clutched in her chubby little hand. She waved it around like a scepter as she watched an apron wearing Logan scoop little balls of chocolate chip cookie dough onto a baking sheet.

"We are making cookies," he announced with a smile and Rory's eyebrows shot up, "I see that," she said, irritation clear in her tone.

"We wanted to surprise you with freshly made for when you get home, but since you're early..."

"No, I'm surprised all right," Rory snapped. "Why is Lottie on the counter, Logan? And eating raw dough - she can't have that..."

"A little bit of raw dough won't hurt her, Ace," Logan shrugged with a little smile, "Don't worry. She's fine."

Rory muttered something under her breath, causing Logan to cock his head. "Tough day at the office?" he asked, though it was more sarcastic than genuine.

"Good authors are not that easy to find," Rory said flatly as she tried to pry the beater out of Lottie's hand. She clutched tighter, causing Rory to pull harder. "Let it go, Lottie." Another tug. "Now." And Lottie's brow furrowed, her bottom lip began to quiver and after a moment of complete silence, she started to cry with big, dramatic breaths and thick juicy tears.

Rory dropped her head in frustration. "Lot! Let go!" but the girl wasn't giving up. She angrily thrust out the beater, inadvertently smearing cookie dough on Rory's blouse. "Oh. Great. Thank you very much, Lottie. This is satin and it was just dry cleaned! Just let the damn beater go!"

"Ace!" Logan intervened, gently pulling Lottie's hand away from Rory's. "Nessie, may Daddy have the beater?" She turned to Logan, exchanging a quick glance between him and her beater scepter. "We're done with the beater, Ness. It's cookie time," he explained gently and Lottie thoughtfully put her finger to her lip, staring at the beater. Finally, after a few minutes of intense contemplation, she released the beater.

"That's a big girl," Logan praised and used his free hand to wipe away her tears, before scooping her up from the counter and putting her in her high chair, where she immediately grabbed hold of her crayons and started coloring in her book.

Rory shot him an unimpressed look. "She should not have had that beater in the first place."

"It's chocolate chip cookies, Ace," Logan waved Rory's concerns away, "It's not a big deal."

"It's not a big deal? There's egg in the batter..."

"...a tiny bite won't kill her."

"Since when do you get to make that decision?" Rory asked in an annoyed huff.

"There wasn't a decision to make! It's cookies! And I'm not the one fighting with a two year old over a beater!"

Rory was offended by his obvious dig. "She wouldn't let the fucking thing go." Logan was surprised by his wife's outburst. "She was playing with it... she wasn't doing anyone harm."

"She ruined my blouse!"

"So, we'll get you a new blouse," Logan suggested calmly.

"Yeah!" Rory shouted, throwing her arms up in the air, " 'cause it's just a three hundred dollar blouse. It's no big deal!"

"Then we'll get it dry cleaned," Logan rolled his eyes. "It's really not a big deal, Ace. Lot's a kid, kids make things dirty."

"I don't want her growing up thinking it's normal to just toss three hundred dollar blouses, Logan!"

"What?" Logan frowned, "What is that supposed to mean?"

Honestly, Rory didn't know what she was getting at. The blouse could be dry cleaned and she could by a new one – even a twenty dollar one from Old Navy. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't a big deal. But still, it irked her. Lottie on the counter, with a beater, Logan a Jamie Oliver Martha Stewart hybrid, fawning over Lottie, making cookies. And she had no place in that domestic scene.

"Nothing," she swallowed hard and averted her eyes at Logan's inquisitive gaze. "Rory?"

"Just…never mind, okay?" she sighed, "I'm sorry. I wasn't… I didn't. It was just crazy at the office today and I still don't have a writer. So…" she blinked her eyes and swallowed again, pushing the tears away.

"Okay," Logan said softly and after a moment of silence, he spoke again, louder this time. "Okay. I was going to make spaghetti for dinner, but maybe you want to take a walk down to Chi-Lings and get us some spring rolls and beef-and-broccoli or something? I'll put Lottie down and then we can talk about it."

Rory nodded slowly. The look Logan was giving her meant that she really didn't have a choice and she almost felt like she was being punished, like getting Chinese takeout was the grown-up version of a time-out. And even though she could tell he was upset with her, she knew he really wanted to discuss this and help her.

"Yeah, that sounds good," she said, tightening the belt of her trench, "and your cookies are burning."

* * *

Her phone vibrated, but she picked up before her ringtone kicked in.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

Rory squeezed her phone a little tighter and an involuntary smile appeared on her face as she imagined that crooked grin of his. Maybe he was sitting in some office, legs propped up on the corner of a messy desk, but she heard honking and shouting so he was probably walking on some city street, quick paced, phone positioned between shoulder and ear.

"Hey," she said breathlessly. "What's up?"

"Guess where I just came from?"

"Oh, I don't know..." Rory said, "NYC? A new bookshop? Poetry slam? Art gallery? Coffee shop?"

"You've got me pigeonholed, Gilmore," Jess chuckled, before sighing deeply. "Actually, I stood in line at the bank for forty-five minutes. To cash a check."

Rory's grin grew. "You know what they say: if you can't do the time, don't stand in line."

Clearly, he was amused. "They say that, do they?"

"They do," Rory confirmed with a nod.

"And what do you say?" Jess wanted to know.

I say... congratulations. It's about damn time."

Jess let out a hearty laugh. "I know, I know. But...I just wanted to make sure."

Rory nodded, "Yeah. I figured. Thanks for calling me, Jess. That's the best news I got all day."

"Really?"

Rory's pace slowed to a stop as she waited with a handful of people to cross the street.

"I read twenty-two manuscripts this week…."

"….and they are all shit?"

"You have no idea," Rory shouted, "It's like everyone thinks they are either the next Mark Twain or the next Helen Fielding!"

Jess snorted, "And all she did was read an abnormal amount of Jane Austen."

"Exactly!" Rory agreed with such fervor, a few people turned to look at her.

"So what are you going to do?" Jess asked.

"I don't know. I honestly don't know."

"Hm.." It was almost as if she could hear Jess run a list of solutions through his mind, "how long do you have?"

Rory shrugged, "Couple weeks at the most."

"That's…not good."

"Nope. I should've taken the job at ProJo," Rory said with a hallow laugh.

"When was that?"

She'd reached the door of Chi-Lings, but she didn't go in. "A lifetime ago."

"So, too late to go back, huh?"

"Yeah," she said, leaning against the brick wall.

"You'll figure it out, Rory." His voice suddenly sounded so familiar, so trusted, and so full of hope that she believed him.

"You think?"

"I know," Jess assured her. "And besides, you _like_ reading those manuscripts. Don't lie."

"Well," Rory drew out, "Where else would've I've read about the relationship woes of Audrey and Benajamin?"

"Let me know if someone submits a sequel!" Jess laughed and Rory laughed with him. Finally, the laughter ebbed away and Rory spoke. "Thank you, Jess. I needed that."

"Any time, Rory. Any time."

* * *

"All right, Lorelai. Thanks."

Rory caught the tail end of Logan's conversation. To her mother apparently. "I'm back," she said tightly as she placed the bag of greasy Chinese food on the kitchen counter.

"Hi," Logan smiled and leaned in to kiss her, but Rory pulled away. "Was that my mom?"

Logan looked down at his phone. "Yeah. I just called to see if she had any tips on how to removed cookie dough. In addition to your blouse, Lottie got some on one of her stuffed animals."

Rory's resisted the urge to say _I told you so_ and also ignored the mild irritation she felt over Logan calling her mom.

"What did she say?"

"She said cookie dough never lasted long enough in your house to stain any stuffed animals…" His gaze dropped to her shirt, eyes lingering on her bust, "or blouses."

There was something about that look that made everything melt away. Work stress, the terrible twos, anxiety over her missing period. There, in that moment, they were just there. A husband and wife standing across from each other in a penthouse kitchen above the hustle and bustle of the city and life.

He reached out to wipe dried up dough away, but Rory grabbed his hand, and their fingers intertwined immediately.

"That sounds about right." She squeezed his hand and he squeezed back, his index finger tracing little circles on the back of her hand. "We can wash Lottie's stuffed animals…" Rory leaned forward, letting her head rest on his chest, inhaling his scent. Sweet, musky, masculine. "…and my shirt." She leaned back, left eyebrow raised suggestively.

"You know what," he suggested causally; sexily. "We should. Right now."

Logan's expert fingers weaved up her blouse, pushing the little pearl beads through their designated holes as he went, ultimately exposing her lavender lace bra.

"That's better," his husky breath tickled her neck and she cocked her head up to meet his kiss.

* * *

The Chinese food was cold by the time they were ready for it, but Logan microwaved two bowls. Idle conversation about the food and the benefits of Chinese takeout versus Thai followed and they both offered commentary on the state of the cakes the teams on Ultimate Cake Off were making, all in a mutual effort to avoid the topics they should be discussing. Rory, especially, did her best to steer clear of business, the state of her trust fund and her menstrual health. Logan did not want to pry – after all, Rory's little walk around the block seemed to have done her a world of good and Logan didn't exactly want to ruin his quiet night (and he needed a quiet night, what with dealing with the terrible twos all day).

"I know I left HPG," Logan said finally when Ultimate Cake Off faded into a commercial, "but you know that if Mitchum is giving you a hard time, you can come to me about it. You can always come to me - we'll figure it out."

Rory needed a moment to process Logan's words, before speaking. "I know. And he's not. I just need to find a writer. A good one, you know."

"Yeah, but you'll find someone, I'm sure you'll find someone."

He meant it and he believed it and she wanted to believe him, but she didn't. For a brief moment, she considered telling him about the awful manuscripts. The Helen Fielding-Jane Austen wannabes. The poor grammar, the bad spelling, the warped plots. But the fondant just ripped on a stack of cakes and the butter cream was melting. Rory called it from the beginning as the foundation of the cake was not good and now the whole thing was about to fall apart. Lazily, she rested her head on Logan's shoulder, as he turned up the volume on the TV.

* * *

**I know I am losing this updating game. My computer crashed and I lost my notes but that was months ago, so I can't even really use that as an excuse. I'm sorry. **

**The next chapter (for which I've got notes, don't worry) will be longer and feature a true Logan and Rory confrontation. I just kept this one brief (I wrote it today. In the park. In the sun. It's spring!) to get back in the writing game. I hope it's not entirely terrible.  
**


	15. Getaways

**This is me making an effort at regular updates. But I am not promising anything. The drama at my office is fit for a novel – another little project I may or not be working on with all my free time – but I did get promoted so maybe it's worth something. **

**And I'm giving KimberlyKaos a shout out for dedicating her days off to reading the NYN saga! :)  
**

**Disclaimer – I do not own I wish I owned the DVDs! **

* * *

Mitchum had not specifically set a deadline for a new writer; however, she'd been on the hunt for about a month now and the pile of manuscripts had yet to generate a definite lead. She must have read at least seventy-five would-be novels and it wasn't that she didn't like to read, because she did, she just didn't like to read utter garbage. Stories about aliens and knights from Mid Evil times. Cheap love stories lifted from John Mayer lyrics and fairytale stories inspired by tales that have been told before. She recollected some vague quote about how ideas aren't new and no one is creative, but she couldn't remember who said it or where she read it, but she believed it.

There were six or seven manuscripts left on her desk and she sure hoped that one of them had at least some potential.

Rory randomly selected one; it was not long. Two-hundred pages or so and the author's name sounded like it belonged to someone who lived in a dusty attic, sitting behind an old-fashioned typewriter: Willis Norman. She chuckled at the already clichéd start and swirled the coffee in her cup before taking a sip and settling in.

_I never should have left her. _

Those were the words Willis Norman started his novel with and Rory was hooked. Six striking words started a story filled with _not_ a clichéd love story but something more real, something more personal, something moving.

"You are smiling," Mitchum's cool observation immediately yanked her from her work. It took her a minute to realize where she was and what she was doing. She felt almost dazed, like she always felt when she was lost in the world that was a subject of someone's pen.

Apologetically, she smiled at Mitchum, even though, really, he should be the one apologizing for intruding on her private moment and all, but she just shrugged. "I'm sorry, Mitchum. I was, um..." she clumsily pointed at the pages of the manuscript as she trailed off.

"Working," Mitchum acknowledged with a curt nod. "I wanted to let you know that I googled 'The Subsect'."

Rory's eyes shot up. "You did?"

Mitchum inhaled deeply, the tiniest hint of frustration evident in his expression. "Quite frankly, Rory, I don't understand why we haven't signed him already. Jess Mariano clearly has the kind of talent HPG could benefit from..."

Rory nodded, but couldn't help the smile that tickled her lips. The kind of talent HPG could benefit from, that's exactly what Jess had wanted to avoid; he knew that the company would use him and drop him as soon as he stopped becoming a 'benefit'.

"I tried, Mitchum," Rory said, "but I could not convince him."

"You couldn't convince him?" Mitchum asked with a raised eyebrow. "This from the girl who was able to convince Logan to return to HPG after the whole Milton fiasco. The girl who proved to me that she was capable in business and writing and heading a book tour. This from the girl that eloped and yet convinced Emily Gilmore that it was for the best. And know you are saying that you could not convince Jess Mariano to sign with HPG."

Rory nipped her bottom lip. "That is correct." Mitchum didn't respond right away, instead he fixed his eyes on her and Rory held his gaze. Finally, he clacked his tongue. "Did he decline considering your history?"

"History?"

"Oh, stop," he waved Rory's attempt at feigning ignorance away. "I know you and Mariano were high school sweethearts, two straws in the milkshake, rock around the clock kind of lovebirds..."

"Um..." Rory tried to interject, but he was annoyed. "...and, of course, let's not forget that he is your...cousin?"

Rory's face scrunched up in disgust as she had never considered her relationship to Jess like that before.

"I guess," she shrugged at Mitchum. "He just didn't want to. He wanted to do it himself, with Mattie and Chris, his business partners."

Mitchum snorted. "No one wants to "do it for themselves", Rory, not when a big company is offering to invest."

"Jess did!" she defended, "And Logan, too. He left."

"Logan has nothing to do with this," Mitchum said, but paused curiously to really look at her. "Or does he?"

Feeling uncomfortable under his intense glare, Rory turned away. "No, he doesn't."

A tense moment of silence passed between them. "Look," Mitchum sighed finally, "Do you think HPG can find another Jess Mariano?"

"I might have him here," Rory said, pointing at the manuscript folded in her lap.

"Decide if he's worth interviewing by this afternoon - we need to move forward with this project by the end of next week and you and Logan have the Children's Book Ball down in DC this weekend so..."

"What?"

"The Book Ball?" Mitchum repeated, "We've sponsored this forever, Rory. I would attend, but I am joining Shira at some society function in Hartford."

"Oh, that's right," she nodded but she honestly had no clue what he was talking about.

"Right," he smiled a little. "I'll let you get back to reading. And give Lottie a kiss for me."

At that, Rory smiled too. For all his tough guy exterior, Mitchum sure was a sweet grandpa, though as soon as he left, her smile turned to a frown and she frantically reached for her cell phone.

_Did you know that our presence is required in DC this weekend? _

A second later her phone buzzed with a text.

_Children's Book Ball! And a little weekend getaway for you and me : ) _

On autopilot, Rory shot back a flirty little text but it worried her that seemingly everyone knew about this event, except her. She flipped through her schedule on her phone and there it was. Highlighted and all.

Huh.

Maybe she'd overlooked it, what with all the book-reading. And with that half-assed explanation, she dove back into the fabulous world Norman had created.

_I never should have left her. _

* * *

It was ten to six and Rory really had to get home, but she couldn't. Norman's words haunted her. Regret. That's what he was really driving at in his story. His protagonist Simon never believed in it. He was a runner and his coach taught him to never look back – a millisecond could decide the game and he was in it to win it. All the way, every time. Besides, he had some Freudian sense of gratification and satisfaction. Regret shouldn't exist since you wanted something in that moment. After all, why be sorry for something you wanted? Even if it was only for a moment, a millisecond.

Of course, that all changed when he ordered another beer, and another, and one more, and gave into temptation. And for a moment, he had it all and it was perfect, until it wasn't.

Regret didn't come until he realized that it was just that. Temptation. Lust. Not love. A crush, not a relationship and yet, in his words, on that world, it seemed so, so right to risk it all.

Rory decided not to even bother with the rest of the scripts on her table. Willis Norman with the perfect author name was going to be HPG's perfect author.

"I was just about to call you," Logan said as Rory made her way into the kitchen.

"I know. I'm sorry," Rory said as she handed him a container of ice cream. "Rocky road to make up. I was caught up in a book."

"You were?" Logan was surprised. "So after all this time, you finally got a good one?"

"A great one," Rory nodded enthusiastically as she took the plate of food Logan handed it. "So awesome. You have to read it."

"Really?" Logan rested against the counter, a lazy grin on his face, eyes examining Rory's elated face. "You seem happy about it."

"Oh, well, it's a terrible story..." Logan let out surprised little laugh, which Rory, in all her enthusiasm ignored, "...but it's a great novel. Like, just top notch."

Logan smiled getting caught up in his wife's enthusiasm. "So, what is it about?"

"Simon Jones, twenty-something, small town beginnings, successful business man in the middle and depressed alcoholic endings."

"Tragic," Logan said with a little sarcastic undertone.

"Lost love is always tragic," Rory said with a serious nod. "Of course, he is partly to blame because he cheated. A few drinks, blurry thoughts, pretty girl. His wife eventually leaves him because of this, but it was circumstance."

"Circumstance?" Logan asked with a cocked brow. "He cheated!"

"Yeah, but only because of the result of his circumstances…he couldn't help it."

Logan scoffed. "I think he could!"

"A business deal had just fallen through, his career was taking a turn for the worst, and his wife didn't understand..."

"Bullshit, Ace!' Logan said, "It's cause and effect. This Jones made a bad investment. He chose to get drunk and chose to make eyes at the waitress. He chose to let the waitress take him to the stock room. He told his wife and she left."

"That's so black and white, Logan," Rory said, "It wasn't like that. He knew the waitress - they knew each other, there was some sparks..."

"But she wasn't his wife," Logan interjected and Rory replied with some rambling about how Jones and the waitress being friends.

"Oh yeah, so it's okay to fuck your friends."

"Logan! I'm not saying that..."

"...it's just okay for Simon Jones?"

"It's a character in a book," Rory shrugged, not really wanting to get in an argument about this. And Logan, sensing that this wasn't really worth a discussion, gave his wife a small grin. "I'm just surprised, that's all. I can't think of a situation in which I'd justify cheating."

A wicked smile played at Rory's lips. "Not even Bobbi?"

"Only for Bobby with a y, Ace," Logan quipped back, before taking the manuscript from Rory's hands. "Now, let me see what my man Jones' got going on."

* * *

Later that night, Rory crawled up next to Logan in bed. One of the reasons she admired Logan was his ability to speed read - he had a chapter or so left. Quietly, she rested her head on his shoulder and his arm reflexively snaked around her.

He continued to read while she meditated on the rise and fall of his chest. Up and down, calm, quiet and strong. He was like a beacon of serenity and that thought made her role her eyes. At times like these, she couldn't get over how much he'd changed from that cocky blond haired kid she'd met at the coffee cart all those years ago.

Rory's thoughts broke as Logan inhaled deeply before speaking. "Simon Jones is a douche bag. But I understand why you like book - millions of Americans will."

"You think I've picked a winner?" Rory asked hopefully.

"Oh yeah. I can see Matthew what's-his-face starring now."

"Shirtless Matt?" Rory scrunched her nose up in disgust, "No. It's got to be someone good. Jake, maybe, or Hugh Jackman."

"Hugh Jackman?" Logan asked in mock offense. "Matt's no good?"

"What?" Rory shrugged, "Hugh Jackman was People's Sexiest Man Alive!"

"Oh well, in that case I invite you to get drunk in a bar and have your way..."

Rory reached for a throw pillow and playfully hit his chest. "I wouldn't dare."

Logan gabbed the pillow and swatted back, "Oh, you wouldn't, would you?"

"No -" but before she couldn't finish, Logan had rolled on top of her and gently pinned her on the bed. She struggled a little, for show, but she liked the view too much to really care about the conversation or anything like that. Rory moistened her lips and a devilish smirk appeared on his face.

"I like you a lot," he said. " You work in this bar often?"

"Only when my husband is out of town," she replied without missing a beat.

"Husband, huh?"

"Yeah. He's the intelligent book reading type."

"One of those black and white types, I'm sure," he lowered himself so that his mouth was next to her ear. "Doesn't believe in gray areas?"

He used his deep voice, the one that made her spine tingle and blush, so much so that she had to turn away because his gaze was too intense. But it was only for a split-second and when she looked up, his lips crashed into hers.

* * *

"Champagne, my dear Ace?" Logan asked, reaching over to the limousine fridge.

"Just a second, babe," Rory said, busily tapping away on her phone. "I just need to e-mail Mitchum about an interview date for Willis and then I'll be good."

Logan laughed a little as he poured some champagne. "I sure don't miss that from my working days." And he waited patiently for Rory to put her phone back in its case and toss it in her black Prada tote, before taking the flute.

"You really don't, do you?" Rory asked with a serious note to her tone. "Who would have thought?"

Logan shrugged. "Who would have thought we'd have Finn be our preferred babysitter."

"I know," Rory laughed, leaning back into the soft leather seats. "I would've bet money on Colin."

"Me too, Ace, me too." A little smile played at her lips as she settled her gaze on him. "Well, cheers to the unexpected, then."

Late that afternoon, Logan and Rory arrived in DC for the Children's Book Ball. The limousine slowed to a stop at the gorgeous Hilton hotel and the doormen practically tripped over their own feet in welcoming them.

"This reminds me of the Sheraton in Kansas City - they must have had a special course in sucking up," Rory whispered to Logan as they checked-in. All Rory's annoyance ebbed away, though, once she saw a shiny rectangular box on the bed of their suite.

"Open it, Ace," Logan delicately pushed her forward before letting go of the small of her back. Curiously, Rory took a step forward and took a moment to take in the big bold designer letters. She ran a manicured hand over the top of the box, before slowly opening it. Inside lay a gorgeous Marchesa gown. A strapless champagne-colored knee-length dress, covered by a delicate layer of onyx black tulle. Small black beads made up an intricate pattern across the bust and hem.

"Oh, Logan, it's beautiful," Rory gushed as she gently lifted the frock from it's container and held it up to her chest. Three smaller boxes caught her eye and an excited grin appeared on her face. "Oh, Logan, you shouldn't have!"

The first box contained a pair of patent nude platform peep toes and elicited several screams from Rory. The second and third box were accessories: a gorgeous pair of black onyx studs and a tiny black clutch.

"You like?" Logan asked as he put his arms around her.

"It's too much," she whispered and kissed him, long and slow and appreciative.

"You deserve it," he said softly. "For finding Willis and for not forgetting this event."

Rory chuckled, an embarrassed blush on her cheeks because she almost forgot. Logan didn't notice, though as he was too busy leaning in for another kiss.

They had to scramble to make the 7:15 pm event kick-off. It was just cocktails and canapés, but their presence would surely be missed.

"I've already told you that you look amazing tonight, right?" Logan asked in his casual way as he caught Rory's reflection in the mirror. The right corner of her mouth twisted upward in a flirtatious smile. For a split-second she hated that this trip was more or less a work commitment. She needed to be on her best behavior and him looking at her with _those _eyes and _that _smile were making her want to not be on her best behavior.

Through the mirror, she kept her eyes on his, but when his hand began playing with the black tulle of her dress, she stepped away.

"Oh, come on Ace," he groaned and she gave him an rueful frown. "You know we can't."

"This isn't high school, Ace. We are adults – we have a kid for Pete's sake. What are you afraid of? Mitchum grounding us?"

Rory laughed but she kept it serious. "You know it's business time down there and you know that with your hand on my dress I can't think."

"I see," Logan chuckled as she leaned in close. "Now, how can I do business if I can't think?"

The elevator door pinged open and Rory stepped out. Cool, collected, unfazed by the sexual tension that still lingered in the elevator. Logan cleared his throat a few times, cursing Mitchum under his breath, before quickening his pace to catch up to his wife.

* * *

Four salmon puffs and six cheese sticks later, Logan was standing next to Rory, clutching his tumbler of whiskey (the only redeeming feature this event so far) as Rory chatted with Andy Hills and Jim Toms from the Chronicle.

The last time he had seen these men was at the launch for Travel Magazine. Rory was heavily pregnant, standing around, drinking Ginger Ale, being ignored by the likes of Andy Hills and Jim Toms and now she was rubbing shoulders with them as if nothing had happened. Of course, he had never told her about the flippant comments these guys had made, but Logan was sure that if Rory had ever formally met them, her hate for them would be instant, just like his. Though, it seemed that he was wrong as she laughed and drank and talked as if they were all old friends and he was the spoil sport.

He was enraged, not in the least because, apart from a cool handshake, he was being ignored. Rory was going on and on about heading HPG's latest venture while Jim Toms stared at Rory's chest.

"Drink?" Logan blurted suddenly, bringing the conversation to a halt. Even the server looked embarrassed at Logan's social faux pas.

"Ah, yes, might as well," Jim said with a haughty smile, "you know, there is food, too."

A few people chuckled and Rory exchanged a brief glance between her champagne flute and Logan, but she didn't say anything.

Logan swirled the last sip of whiskey around in his tumbler before speaking. "I'm well aware, Jim. I've been to a couple of these shindigs before."

"It's been awhile, though, am I right?"

Logan shrugged at what Jim was implying. "A couple of years. I kind of got out of the game, you know?"

"Can't really say that I do…" he looked around, giving the members in their little group a _can-you-believe-this-guy_ look. Logan shot Rory a quick look, maybe in search of support, but she was intently focused on her champagne flute. "Ah well!" Jim put his hand on Rory's shoulder, "At least the missus will uphold the Huntzberger name!"

Rory practically choked on her champagne and she thought Logan would throw a punch, but, amongst the eager eyes all Logan did was down the last sip of his whiskey, raise his glass to Jim and tell him to fuck himself.

Jim laughed one of those hallow, not-impressed laughs, while a few society women with delicate ears let out disgusted gasps and Logan stormed out. Rory was temporarily paralyzed by the events unfolding so rapidly, but once her brain reconnected, she was quick to offer apologies before running after Logan.

The heels of her nude peep-toes pounded the marble floor with certain urgency and she slid into the elevator just before the doors closed.

"What the hell was that about?" was the first thing she bit at him.

Logan's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was sure as hell not taking the blame for this one. "Jim is an asshole, Rory," his eyes sought hers, "Honestly, I thought you'd know better."

"That _I'd_ know better? You just Jim Toms to go fuck himself. I mean…how could you?" She crossed her arms over her chest and her eyebrows raised, "how about the press, huh? I can see the headlines now. _Huntzberger heir dead set on destroying his heritage. Insult heralds the return of Harebrained Huntzberger!" _

"Great alliteration. You should think about writing." His featured were flooded with anger and his sarcastic words stung. Still, Rory kept her eyes on him and slowly his jaw began to unclench and he sighed deeply. "Don't worry about the press…I'll tell Mitchum not to get his panties in a bunch…."

Rory waited a beat, anger now flashing in her eyes, "What about me? I've got to see Jim next month at some function – what am I going to say?"

"You didn't tell him to fuck himself..." Logan started on a half-assed explanation, but Rory exploded. "No, my husband did. My husband who should know better than make a fool of me at these events. You are an extension of me, of the business and you need to make a good impression!"

Logan scoffed at her patronizing tone. "I am an extension? Represent the business? Make a good impression? I'm sorry – what am I? Five years old? I've been going to these events much longer than you, Rory. I _know_ what's expected!"

"And yet you go and pull a stunt like this!"

The elevator door swooshed open and Rory burst out before Logan had a chance to respond. The click-clack of her heels echoed in the hallway, a thick angry tension between the pair. It followed them into their suite. A room, which, just hours before, had been the scene of an amorous moment between a young married couple.

Logan started tugging at his tie, while Rory stared at him, still too angry to let go of this argument and smart enough to know to keep her mouth shut for fear of later regretting things said. The tie came off, the shoes left tied, kicked off his feet and thrown into the walk-in closet of the suite with a thud. He emerged a moment later, tie gone, shirt unbuttoned. Jaw clenched and with short angry breaths, he fixed himself a fresh drink, but didn't ask Rory if she wanted anything. It wasn't until he had the glass raised to his lips, did Rory speak.

"So that's it?" Rory questioned hotly. "You just think you can make a scene downstairs and throw your shoes in the closet like you have right to be mad?"

"Jim Toms is an asshole!" Logan shouted, "I thought you knew!"

"I do!" If she had left it at that, the whole thing would've blown over, but she couldn't stop herself from saying that Jim had a point. "You left the company, Logan. You _left_!"

Her words burned in his ears and it felt like he'd just been punched in the stomach. Slowly, he placed his tumbler on the dresser and Rory's gaze went to it, so that she could avoid looking at Logan. "I did that for us," he said finally.

"You don't have to remind me." Rory hated the guilt he put on her. "But you gave up that life downstairs. What did you expect? That they were going to fall over themselves as the Great Logan Huntzberger made his grand return to the scene?"

"No!" Logan shouted back, "but I was ignored, Rory!"

"...because you didn't have anything to add," she yelled, "and you didn't show any interest to join in. Andy asked you about your side projects and you respond with a story about Lottie."

"So?"

"We were talking about business, not tea parties and princesses!" She instantly regretted her words as she saw Logan's face contort. He muttered something under his breath and sat down on the bed, trying his best to avoid his wife's gaze.

"Logan," she sighed, "I..."

"Princesses and tea parties, huh?" he asked, "That's it? That's all I am?"

"No, honey, of course not..."

"Because I could still walk into a board room and get things done. Better than any of those guys!"

"I know," Rory agreed.

"And I am home with Lottie because I don't want a nanny to raise her and I want you to have your career."

"I know."

"But Jim Toms doesn't understand that and he just has to push and push and push and..." Logan stopped his little monologue as realization sunk in. "...I'm the asshole. I shouldn't have - you have to work with those guys and they won't let you forget this." He ran a hand through his hair. "Ace, I'm so sorry."

In that moment, he looked so sad and vulnerable, it could make Rory cry. Instead, she gave him the smallest of smiles and reassuringly grabbed his hand as she sat next to him on the bed.

"I know," she said for the third time. This time in a softer, more sincere way. "I am sorry, too. I was out of line."

Logan nodded slowly, his brow deeply furrowed and Rory, wanting to make things better, kissed him. Quickly. Then, she slowly slipped off her heels and she felt his eyes on her as she brought the peep shoes to the closet. A minute later she returned. Her hair curling loose around her shoulders, finally freed from its stylish up-do and wearing nothing else.

* * *

Calmness had returned once again to the suite and the pair lay tangled up in their 1200 thread-count finest Egyptian cotton sheets. Rory rolled over so that she was facing Logan. He gently caressed her cheek, before gently brushing a stray hair from her face, revealing the onyx studs she still wore in her ears.

"Those earrings look amazing on you," he whispered and Rory smiled. "I should maybe take them out before I fall asleep."

Logan smirked - only Rory would concern herself with something like that. "I'll get you the box..."

From the bed, Rory lazily watched as Logan sauntered over to the dresser and opened the top drawer. He quickly found the small blue velvet box they belong in, but another blue box also caught his eyes.

"What's this?" he asked as he threw a Tampax box on the bed. It

It was unopened and a little dented, like it had been smushed between blouses and skirts in an LV-roller bag on a cross-country trip, which, obviously was the case and judging by the look on Logan's face, there was no denying that.

Feeling way more exposed than she psychically could ever be, Rory wrapped the sheets around her tightly. Logan rubbed his temples. "I'm not..." he stopped, making sure to keep his tone even, "I'm not mad, Ace."

Her eyebrows raised in a kind of shocked surprise. Of course, he shouldn't be mad. It's not like had to tell him everything that went on her life! The look she was giving him caused him to backtrack a bit.

"No, I mean, you should've told me, but..." he started but Rory cut-in. "I should've told you?" The anger was clear in her tone and it annoyed him. "I'm your husband, Ace. You should tell me these things, especially considering the fact that you were having problems..."

Her mouth popped open in surprise - she couldn't believe Logan actually said that. "Our vows did not mention me discussing every detail of my cycle with my husband, okay?"

"I think this falls under the "in sickness and in health" part," he said sarcastically.

"Oh, so now I'm sick?' she questioned, "Not having a period for five months is a sickness?"

"I didn't say that. I just... " Logan trailed off, but he kept his gaze on her. Despite the tense mood, he didn't fail to see the glow Rory's skin had, the swell of her bosom peaking above the sheets, her glossy hair and bright eyes. "Are you sure you aren't pregnant?"

Her bright eyes narrowed. "I took a million tests, Logan. I'm not pregnant, so please...can we stop talking about it?"

"Rory," he said seriously as he sat back down on the bed. "When we get back to New York, I want you to go to the doctor. If you're not pregnant, it's got to be something else."

"I'm not pregnant."

Logan nodded, but it was obvious he didn't believe her. Rory hated that Logan looked at her that way, with eyes that saw straight to her soul, it made her feel like she offered him some kind of explanation.

"I..." she wasn't really sure how to start this conversation, maybe that's what she had been avoiding it for so long. "I should have maybe told you, but I didn't want to worry you."

"Worry me?"

" It's been so long and nothing is happening and..." her voice started to crack "...I know I promised you a another baby and the time is right, with me settled in this job and you being superman Dad and..." she tried to swallow her tears but it was no use. They fell in big wet drops on the fancy sheets. Logan wrapped her in a tight embrace stifling the rest of what Rory wanted to say.

A dim red light was the only thing illuminating the room. It came from the alarm clock which read three am. Her tears subsided hours ago, the make-up sex had been sweet, with Logan being very careful. For sure, he thought she was pregnant. She remembered that tender look from when she'd been pregnant with Lottie. And that look was the reason she was up at 3 am.

She knew, instinctively that she wasn't with child. She couldn't explain, it was just a gut feeling. And yet, she couldn't bring herself go to the doctor for confirmation. All these months, she'd hoped that her period would show up and prove that her instinct wasn't wrong, that it was natural and okay. Going to the doctor made it more real, more serious and Logan's inevitable disappointment bigger.

He already loved this unborn child so, so much and why wouldn't he? He was a great dad. A far better parent than she would ever be. In fact, maybe she was a terrible mother for missing her period more than she missed a sibling for Lottie. Maybe she missed some kind of mom gene for preferring book tours and boardrooms over tea parties and princesses with Lottie. She was unprepared the first time and maybe she would've done things differently. She didn't know, but she couldn't change it.

Meanwhile, the little voice in the back of her head whispered (but in the middle of the night, it sounded like shouting) that she didn't deserve her success - it was Mitchum who gave it to her, and Mitchum who could (would, eventually?) take it away. Who did she think she was for going off on Logan in front of Jim Toms? It was his industry first - his _inheritance_ - his right to be involved.

She rolled on her side, waiting for sleep to come, and watched Logan sleep. The steady rise and fall of his chest, the peaceful look on his face, probably dreaming about that baby. Her beacon of serenity.

And suddenly, she felt as if all the air was being sucked out of the room. She needed to get out. Away. She couldn't stand to be there a second longer, lying next to him. Waiting. Disappointing. Not knowing anything at all.

All she knew, in that moment, was that she needed to be anywhere but here.

Quickly and silently, she got up and slipped on the clothes she discarded long ago. Grabbing only her wallet and cell, she slipped out of the room. Her heels echoed loudly in the hotel lobby, a monotonous soundtrack to her escape. Of course, no one knew that she was escaping.

Once the cool night air of DC surrounded her, she had a moment of clarity and she knew where she was going. She stepped into a waiting cab.

"Where to ma'am?"

"Philadelphia."

* * *

**Cliffhanger! **

**I know this has gone to that deep dark twisty place with lots of things going on. I think the coming chapters are going to be the worst I've ever written them but I can promise that things will get back to a Lumley Castle level of happiness, okay?**

**And thanks also for sticking with me this long! It still brings a smile to my face! **


	16. Running

**So, I did it. I bought seasons 1-7 on DVD! Oh! And I updated, of course! I don't know why it's so hard for me to write this, but it is. However, I've been in a Bon Iver and NYN kind of mood…and this just flowed. **

**Special shout outs to: Julie Sue and Vanessa, who caught up in the NYN-sage within days. SassyAni, who's been reading this story from day 1, Hy for making me laugh, and Welcome to La-La Land for inspiring a little rant. And to everyone else, obviously, because I love how much love there is for NYN. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

I never should have left.

Willis's words beat like a drum in her mind as the cab sped through town and onto the highway. A lifetime of moments passed by and her mind hitched on each one, wondering if she just should've stayed, especially because she seemed so intent on running. (Ironic, really, since her mother taught her that Gilmore Girls never run.)

From her first kiss (she was pretty sure she had a box of cornstarch stowed somewhere to prove it) and from Dean's so ill-timed "I love you". She ran all the way to Washington after she kissed Jess, and later she experienced, for the first time, what it meant to be the one who was left behind. Rory hadn't coped too well with that one, so she ran all over town when he came back. Then she ran away from Yale, and came back, only to run away from Logan and that blue velvet box.

Maybe that was the crucial moment in which she should've stayed. Things would've been different, she could've done this on her own terms. _"Ah! But that's what you wanted! You wanted your own terms, you wanted options and choices!"_ And suddenly, her 23-year-old self piped up from the depths of her mind: "_He should've known better than to ask me then!" _

Still, she couldn't help but run right into him 2 years later. And she had to stop running; a new life tethered her. And rather than running from her career, she was pushed away.

Rory could almost taste the bitterness on her tongue and she swallowed trying to wash it away, but it was no use. The thought had already slipped through her mind, and she hated herself for thinking it, because she loved Lottie so, and yet she couldn't help but wonder what her life would be like without her.

Would she have chosen to stop running? Would Logan have stayed? Would they've moved in together so quickly or would they have dated for what was deemed an acceptable amount of time? Perhaps he would've proposed after a year or so, and they would've had a big wedding in Hartford. Old York might not have folded, Logan's role at HPG might not have changed, Milton wouldn't have been fired. She and Logan would discuss children, she'd make a pro/con list, she'd be prepared...

Ah, she hated this game of would have, should have, could have, but the montage of different what-if scenarios taunted her.

She was just so confused, so lost, in way too deep, and Logan didn't seem to understand. He was deliriously happy with his new role. Completely and unexpectedly thrust upon him, so different from what Mitchum prepared for him, what he knew his destiny to be.

How the hell could _the_ Logan Huntzberger be cool with staying at home, all day, every day with a little kid? Lottie was fun and could hold a reasonable conversation for her age, but didn't he get bored, wasn't he throwing his talent away? And he was a guy's guy, surely being demoted to stay-at-home dad was an insult to his manhood? Some days, she treated him like a nanny and he let her do it, telling her that it was fine, he was fine, that he wanted to be home with Lottie because he was raised by nannies! Lorelai hadn't been a stay-at home mom, and Rory turned out ok, so his argument, which she had so willingly accepted, now seemed weak.

Maybe she could make more sense out of it, if he screamed and stomped his feet and told her to tell Mitchum to go to hell. Or if he'd have a dark day like Luke and go fishing or just... do _something_.

"_Like running to Philadelphia is a good idea_," the little voice in her head spoke.

"Shut up," she snapped and caught the cab driver's funny look in the mirror. "Oh, not you," she quickly apologized, "I'm just..."

"It's cool," the driver smiled back, and Rory figured he'd witnessed a midnight escape or two before. She slumped back into her seat and bit her lip, trying to stifle the constant stream of thoughts. Finally, the cab slowed to a stop in front of a redbrick building in downtown Philly.

"Thanks," she said, handing over her black card. She didn't know or didn't care how much the fare was.

"Good luck, with... " the cabbie turned his head towards the building and squinted a little to make out the words on the awning, "...Truncheon?"

"Yeah, Truncheon," Rory sighed, "Thanks again." She set her stiletto-healed foot down on the pavement. Even though it was late (or just really early), it wasn't cold outside. There was a glow off the pavement and the air was dewy, like a summer shower had just passed.

No matter; sunshine didn't really seem fitting at a time like this.

* * *

She knocked the door and tried not to think how odd it was for her to be standing at Jess's doorstep in the middle of the night in a Marchesa evening gown. She knocked again and just as dread started to fill her - what had she done? where would she go if he didn't open? - she heard someone stumble down the steps and undo the deadbolt on the door. It was quiet for a second, before the door flung open. "Jesus, Rory!"

"Hi," she offered with a watery smile and a small wave.

"What?" he croaked, his voice carrying that morning rawness, "You were just in the neighborhood and wanted to pop by for a cup of coffee?"

There was something about his voice and his sarcasm and just everything about this night, that made tears well up in her eyes. "Coffee would be good," she managed, before the tears started for fall in earnest.

He ushered her inside, gently ordered her to sit on the couch, and tossed a box of Kleenex at her. Luckily, most of the tears had stopped coming, and she was absentmindedly rolling little balls of tissue paper as she took in Jess's apartment (immaculate, modern, apart from the big oak bookcases filled to the brim, and decidedly bachelor, devoid of any girlish touch, except for the pair of nude platform peep toes that lay discarded next to the couch) and observed him making coffee. He had a regular machine, not a fancy espresso maker like she did, and she realized that he was wearing his pajamas - cotton drawstring pants with a plaid print and no shirt. Huh. Every so often, he glanced over his shoulder and looked at her. To make sure she was okay, or maybe just to check that this was really happening.

Finally, the coffee finished brewing and the sweet, dark smell had a soothing effect on her troubled soul. Even more so when he came to sit across from her on the coffee table, and handed her a steaming mug. He waited for her to take a small sip, and then a larger one, and sigh in satisfaction.

"It's good."

"Luke taught me well."

"That he did..."

The pair sat in comfortable silence for a while; Jess waiting for Rory to offer some kind of explanation as to why she was here, but she had averted her gaze and was completely focused on her coffee mug.

"So," Jess cleared his throat, "I take it you didn't come by to chat about Luke?"

She shook her head.

"And a business call could've waited 'til morning?"

"Yeah..."

"Rory," he said seriously, "It's not that I mind you showing up here in the middle of the night - "

"I prefer to call it early morning," she interjected, and his brows furrowed for a second, "Right. Either way, you're going to have to tell me what's going on, 'cause this is kind of freaking me out."

She took drained the rest of her cup. "I'm sorry, Jess. It's just that... You know how we've been trying to find an author to sign to HPG?"

His left eyebrow shot up in surprise. "Yeah?"

"Well, I think we've found him. His name is Willis. That's a great name, don't you think?" She let the question linger in the air, and he gave some kind of non-committal hum that prompted her to go on. "His book is great. It's about Simon Jones, twenty-something, small town beginnings, successful business man in the middle and depressed alcoholic endings, lost love, the whole thing..."

Jess snorted and Rory cocked her head to the side. "You don't sound impressed?"

He shrugged, "It's not exactly original, is it?"

"Lost love is a universal theme," Rory bit back, annoyed that Jess didn't like the plot for the book she fell in love with.

"Yeah, universally turned into a clichéd tragedy..."

Her mouth opened and she thought of Logan standing at the kitchen counter muttering words to that effect. "Well, it doesn't matter," Rory shrugged, "but the book got me thinking. Regret is one of the big themes."

"Ah," Jess nodded, trying to understand where she was going with this.

"Jones was a runner and his coach taught him to never look back..."

"Of course. A millisecond could decide the game," Jess smirked a little, but Rory didn't notice. "And he thinks regret is foolish because why be sorry for something that you wanted, right?"

"Beats me," he shrugged, still keeping his eyes on her. "So I was just thinking and it turns out that I'm a runner," she said.

"In a metaphorical sense? Because I've seen you run, Rory, and I've gotta say, it ain't pretty."

The faintest smile played at her lips. "Metaphorically."

"I gather you are literally looking back, even though Jones's obviously told you not to?"

"No, his coach. Jones actually learns to regret. He cheats on his wife with an old friend."

Now both of Jess's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she glossed over whatever message (if any) was hidden between those words.

"So you ran from…?"

He had figured she'd say Logan, but she chose the evasive route. "Lots of things."

"Not all things..." Jess tried, but Rory wasn't listening, she was just venting. "It's just kind of a habit, I guess, and now I can't, and I was just thinking, you know, how I imagined things to be so different. Nothing really turned out the way I planned. And that sucks, because I was a good planner. I had lists and everything. But still: I ran from Dean, I ran from you...twice. I ran from Logan."

"Also twice, and you went back."

"Yeah, I went back," she said slowly, nodding. And then she spoke quickly as if the words were poison and needed to get out: " But should I have?"

"Rory..."

"No, Jess, I could have.." There was so much she could have done so she just sighed, "I don't know. But you looked up Yale, you came and got me at Yale, wanting to take me away. Remember? You wanted to live in New York and do crazy things together. Don't you ever wonder?"

He stayed silent for a moment. Yeah, he had wondered that, but he was 19, travelling across country on his way back east and that thought sustained him and when she said no, that gave him strength to write. He'd never written to win her back, but she'd believed in him, and he'd let her down and he wanted to fix that trust between them. That tortured thing worded for a while, and certainly helped set the tone of his writing, but after a while, it became its own project, something bigger than her and he let go. He was 23, so, he wondered, where did she get off coming here in the middle of the night, mentioning cheating and reminiscing about the past? She was married, she had a kid, she shouldn't be here!

"Look, Rory," and he stopped, surprised at the anger in his tone, took a breath and started again. "Did you and Logan fight?"

She shrugged and clutched her tissue ball a little tighter. "We were at this ball, this charity thing...Logan quit HPG to take care of Lottie, and we ran into some of his old colleagues, you know how guys in the industry are."

"Douchebag, pompous, idiot dickheads."

"Yeah," Rory nodded, "and Logan didn't take to kindly to being excluded from that little group. And then, I yelled and he shouted and he wants another baby."

"…and you don't?" he probed gently. She picked at her tissue. "I…at this point, it's probably more question of _can_ than _want_._" _

There was another moment of heavy silence as Jess tried to understand the depth of this information. Honestly, it made him a little uncomfortable to kind of casually discuss her reproductive (or maybe his?) capabilities, and he somehow felt he'd wind up getting dragged into a fight he didn't really want to take part in. "What's Lorelai say?"

"My mom?" Rory asked confused.

"Surely Lorelai Gilmore has an opinion on this matter?"

"I haven't told her. Maybe he has," she added bitterly. "But she'll agree with Logan. He thinks I should see a doctor…about my missing period," Rory added when she saw Jess's confused expression.

"That's what doctors are there for, you know," Jess said. "You're sure you're not...?"

"Yeah."

"Okay," Jess said, running a hand through his hair, trying to recap everything she was telling him, but it was too much of a tangled mess for him to grasp. "How about this?" he suggested, "Why don't you take a shower and get some sleep? Mattie and Chris are coming over for a meeting this morning..."

"...on a Sunday?" she asked, but he ignored her, "and after that we'll talk more later? There's towels on the top shelf in the bathroom, and I'll put some sweats and a T-shirt on the bed for you?"

She nodded slowly, liking that someone else was providing a plan for a change, and he gently took the empty coffee cup from her hand and pointed her in the direction of the bathroom.

* * *

Once he was sure he heard the shower running, he reached for his cell. As the phone rang, he chanced a glance at the clock, maybe Luke was up. After ten rings, someone finally picked up, but didn't speak.

"Hello?" Jess tried and the person on the other end grunted, sighed, and swore, before forming a coherent sentence. "Look, you called here, at the ungodly hour of 6:00 am. Speak now, before I hang up."

"Would you speak to your mother like that?"

"I have and will continue doing so. It makes her mad and that makes me happy. Who is this?"

"It's Jess, Lorelai." He let out a weighty sigh, "I was kind of hoping Luke was there?"

"He left for the diner a while ago," she stifled a yawn, before asking, "Is everything ok?"

"Not really…" And he hated that he was venturing into meddling territory. "Have you spoken to Rory recently?"

He imaged Lorelai bolting up. "Why? Is everything ok? Lottie?"

"Uh, I'm sure Lottie's fine," Jess said, "but Rory and Logan fought. And she showed up at my place tonight in a really bad place, talking about regret and rambling about…"

"..The past and you?"

"Yeah," he breathed, "How did you…?"

"She never told Logan that you were her business meeting until months after the fact," Lorelai stated in a kind of accusatory tone, which Jess was surprised to hear. They'd never really spoken about Logan, but he figured she would tell him. And then 50-thousand dollars popped into his mind and he realized that, that, too was something just between them.

"Nothing happened, Lorelai," Jess said sharply, like he was only going to say it once, "Do you think I'd be calling you otherwise?"

She laughed a bit, "Okay. Point taken."

"I gave her coffee, I let her talk. It seems like there's a lot going on. I told her to shower, and that she could crash here. You know, things always look worse at night."

"Early morning," Lorelai corrected him and he snorted, "So I've heard. Anyway, I just thought you should know…in case he calls," he added and he hoped that when the time came (because Logan would call, he was sure) that Lorelai would do the right thing and explained that there was no secret sexual relationship.

"Will do, Jess," Lorelai answered, seeming to have heard his silent plea. "Have her call me? At least try?"

He promised he would and hung up. Then, he fixed himself another cup of coffee, pulled on a T-shirt, and took his laptop from the table. There was no way he could go back to bed, and the couch didn't look all too inviting, but it was okay. He had work to do anyway.

* * *

Logan stirred, in that weird half-asleep state in which semi-conscious thoughts are mixed with dream-like ones. He recalled something of a fight, telling someone to fuck himself, something about black onyx earrings, and then, as his dreams gave way to the real world, a tiny seed of angry worry pooled in the pit of his stomach; her lies, a new baby... Suddenly, he registered that the bed was oddly cold, and quiet. It was a big bed - it wasn't theirs, so he patted around, though he knew she wasn't there. He jolted up and blinked quickly trying to wake up, trying to get a picture of this hotel room. Her roller bag was still there, but that dress was gone, and her cell wasn't on the bedside table. He didn't need to call down to reception to see if his wife was at the buffet breakfast; the seed of angry of worry bloomed and he knew she was gone.

He spent the first ten minutes re-dialing her number as he quickly packed up both of their things. It was a futile attempt; he knew she wouldn't pick up and even if she did, he wasn't quite sure what to say. He couldn't figure out what caused this (certainly it wasn't his fault - she lied to him!) and, what did he know? Maybe Mitchum called and there was a business emergency?

"She would have left a note!" his inner voice taunted him. But maybe not. Was it worth risking a call to Mitchum to find out? He tried to make a pro/con list of having Mitchum know they were fighting, but from every viewpoint, he seemed to be on the losing side. T

The phone rang a few times, before a groggy voice answered. "Huntzberger."

"Hey Dad," Logan said, surprising himself how casual he sounded for 7 am on a Sunday morning.

"Logan," Mitchum grunted, "It's 7 in the morning." By his dad's tone, Logan could tell that everything was business as usual - there would've been distinct pleasure in his voice if they were doing business, and Logan sighed.

"Is there any particular reason for this early morning call?"

"I meant to call Finn, but hit your direct dial instead," he lied, hoping it sounded somewhat convincing. "And I know how you hate voice mail, so I thought I'd let it ring."

"Uh-huh," Mitchum yawned. "That's fascinating, son."

"So..." He could practically see his Dad's pissed off face, and he couldn't help but smirk a little, "...sorry about that." His temporary pleasure in pretending to prank-call his Dad was fleeting, once Mitchum hung up, Logan threw he phone on the bed and walked into the en suite bathroom, as if Rory would just magically be there. She wasn't of course, and a deeper level of panic set in. What was going on?

Maybe...maybe she woke up in the middle of the night. Upset or maybe a little mad and maybe she got herself all worked up. After all, things always looked positively bleak in the depths of the night, and decided to go home. Finn was at the house with Lottie. Maybe she missed them.

He retrieved his phone and counted the rings. Twelve. And that did nothing to stave off his worry.

" 'ello?" Finn croaked.

"It's me."

"Right. Lottie is still asleep, mate, so now's not really the time...You do realize it's 7:30 and I'm standing here in my underpants reading the Joy of Cooking..."

Logan laughed a little at the thought of Finn pouring over the Joy of Cooking. "Why?"

"I figure Lottie would like waffles for breakfast."

"I see..." Logan said, and hated that he was going to have to ask the last part and ruin Finn's perfect moment. "So, Rory isn't there?"

"No, mate," Finn exclaimed, "The whole point of a couple's weekend away is, that, you know, the couple goes away..." and then Finn seemed to understand what Logan was saying, "What happened?"

Logan sighed deeply, and offered the most condensed version: "We had a fight."

"And she stormed out?"

"No, no," Logan shook his head, "we made up."

"From the looks of it, she don't think so," Finn said bluntly, "Did she leave a note?"

"No, and she won't pick up! And I called Mitchum and there's no HPG drama, and ... I just don't know." He was pretty sure Finn felt the desperation in his tone.

"Maybe she just popped out for a coffee?"

"In last night's ballgown and heels?" Logan asked, unconvinced.

"She's got style and flair?"

"That's not helping, Finn."

"Sorry, mate," he sighed, "I'm sure she's just downstairs having breakfast or something. She just wouldn't leave like that."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Logan shrugged, and it didn't matter how much he wanted Finn to be right, but he knew that he wasn't.

"I'm adding chocolate chips to these waffles," Finn said and Logan chuckled, "As long as you steer clear of alcoholic add-ins."

After Finn hung up, Logan dialed Rory again. It only rang once before switching to voice mail: _Hi. You've reached Rory Huntzberger..._

He didn't wait to hear the rest of the message, but ended the call and threw the phone on the bed again.

* * *

He checked out, lied that he and his wife enjoyed their say, and stepped into the waiting limo by himself. He didn't know what else to do but go home. He couldn't possibly wait in the hotel lobby, hoping she'd show up? And he'd left about a million messages and she hadn't returned any of them. There was a bouquet of roses and a tower of chocolate-coffee cupcakes in the jet, just like he ordered. He had wanted to do a little something special for their last bit of getaway and he scoffed as he took his seat. What a waste. He focused on the buzz of the engine for the short flight, and checked his phone as soon as the plane was at the gate. No messages.

Lottie - sporting a chocolate-chip mouth and syrup in her hair - jumped into Logan's arms as soon as he walked through the door. Finn carefully looked behind Logan, half-expecting to see Rory, but she wasn't there.

"I called, but..." Finn said, shaking his head.

Logan nodded, trying to kiss part of Lottie's hair that wasn't a sticky mess, and Finn shot him an apologetic look. "We had waffles."

"With chocolate chips," Logan said, laughing at Lottie's face. "At least someone had a good time."

"I wanted to have her bathed before you came back. She wanted to wear her Cinderella dress."

"For Mommy," Lottie offered thoughtfully, but luckily not making the connection that Rory should've been home, too.

"Oh, well," Logan said, a little louder than he meant to, because the Lottie had caught him off guard, "The day is young, Nessie. Plenty of time to wear your Cinderella dress. So, what do you say? Bath time?"

Lottie widened her eyes, as if she really had to think about it, but Logan didn't wait to hear her answer.

Finn cleaned up the kitchen while Logan put Lottie in the tub (somehow bits of waffle batter had splattered across the kitchen floor) and then Logan made lunch: grilled cheese and tomato soup. None of which, Finn observed, landed on the floor.

"How do you do that, mate?"

"What?"

"Cook like that?"

"The trick is not to let a 2-year old stir," he laughed, and Finn shrugged, "She can be very persistent."

Logan nodded and looked proudly at her daughter, who was busy dipping a square of grilled cheese in a ramekin of ketchup. His phone lay in the middle of the table, and though Lottie was happily oblivious to everything, it was clear that Finn and Logan's casual conversation was just a forced distraction. They made it all the way through lunch and no ring, not even a buzz.

Finn offered to cancel his coffee date , but Logan didn't want him to. "I think I might go to Stars Hallow," Logan said.

"Did you call Lorelai?" Finn asked and Logan shook his head. "I'm thinking that maybe Rory went there and she told Lorelai not to call."

"Classic," Finn nodded in agreement. "And call if you need me, mate." Logan nodded, and Finn pressed a kiss on top of Lottie's head before he left.

"Alright, Nes," Logan said, and Lottie gave him a curious look. "How 'bout we visit grandma?"

"Glama?" Lottie clapped her hands excitedly and he smiled at his baby girl.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, they were heading north on I-95. Logan's phone remained ominously silent, but Lottie's babbling helped distract him a little bit. He pulled up in the driveway and was grateful Babette wasn't in her yard. He wasn't really in the mood for pleasant chit-chat.

"Sweat pea!" Lorelai came rushing out of the house, and Logan wondered if she heard the car or had been waiting for him. She scooped Lottie from her car seat and gave her a big hug, and Loan could tell by the look on her face that she knew what was up.

"Lorelai…" he started and she gave him a small smile. "I'm glad you came," she said. "How 'bout some coffee?"

She didn't wait for his answer, but set off towards the house, talking just as fast as Lottie had in the car. Logan shook his head, Stars Hallow was much better than New York, and he glanced at his phone one last time, before stuffing it in his pockets.

Still no messages.

* * *

**So, I'm thinking the only redeeming this about this is that she didn't cheat? Or is it Finn making waffles for Lottie? **

**I know this is all dark and twisty and it seems unfixable, but things have been that way before and it's worked out, right? **

**Next chapter will probably be a 4-way confrontation (Lorelai, Logan, Jess, Rory) and then, obviously, the baby-thing and the illegal-loan thing have to be fixed…. **


	17. Avoidance

**Oh you guys! I can't remember when I started this, but it was a while back. I finished it tonight. I hope it's worthy. **

**Thanks so much for, well, sticking with this story for as long as you have. I've tweaked the original plot, considering my updating schedule has been terrible at best. I'm thinking 2 or 3 more chapters to tie up everything, but we'll see how it goes. **

* * *

It was early Sunday morning and Rory lay in Jess' bed. She'd never been this tired, but sleep wouldn't come. Thoughts of her escape, the fight, that tearful night when she sat on the bathroom floor, surrounded by a sea of negative pregnancy tests, and promised him another baby, everything churned through her mind. Since her thoughts had no where to go, they just kept on going, swimming that same, tedious, never-ending circle.

So, she lay awake, wrapped in his crisp white linen sheets, flipping through the channels on Jess' tiny, old TV. It was a Sony and the remote was about the size of a brick and the colors were a little fuzzy but it worked. He'd propped it up on his old, tall stained-oak dresser, like they'd come as a matching set. She thought about watching a DVD, considering Jess had an impressive amount of DVDs lined in a small, square bookcase in the far corner of his room, but upon further inspection, the TV was so old that it didn't support the necessary electronics for a DVD-player. Rory doubted it could play a VHS tape, but her understanding of electronics didn't go that far.

Once, she'd seen an episode of Oprah, in which Oprah declared that having a TV-set in the bedroom was bad for a relationship. No, not even bad, it was terrible. You might as well sign the divorce papers right now, because if you had a TV in your bedroom...boy, awful, terrible, unspeakable things were about to go down. Oprah's been with Steadman forever so she would know about these things, right?

Maybe Jess had seen that Oprah episode, too. Except, maybe, he thought Oprah exaggerated a bit. Not a TV, but DVDs were the deep and dying breaths of relationships. Or, more likely, he didn't give a shit about Oprah and the thought never crossed his mind. Besides, she and Logan didn't have a TV in their bedroom and here she was watching TV from Jess' bed, so, really, what the hell did the Big O know, anyway?

Rory was now thoroughly annoyed at herself, but she settled on CNN. She hoped that Christiane Amanpour would be on as that would be the cherry on her 12-tiered melodramatic cake.

Of course, Amanpour wasn't on because she hadn't been on CNN since 2010, but in her mind CNN and Christiane were forever linked. Instead she had to make do with a giggling Anderson Cooper. On mute, because she didn't want to disturb Jess' meeting with Mattie and Chris, and she wanted him to think that she was asleep. Like any sane person would be after a midnight escape to Philadelphia. She'd like to think that she was still sane, but honestly, she didn't know anymore.

* * *

He didn't knock – he should have, even though it was his room. Her expectant eyes looked at him, and he was caught by only a moment's surprise.

"Sorry, I should've…" he started, and then paused, exhaled deeply, and asked, "Aren't you tired?"

"I couldn't sleep," she shrugged, and he nodded. "I just needed to grab a manuscript."

She nodded again, wondering if it was the 50-thousand-dollar one, the one that made her read Willis' novel about regret and reflection and all that good stuff, but she didn't get a chance to ask as Jess cocked his perfectly coifed head at the TV. "You know Christiane Amanpour traded CNN for ABC years ago?

"I'm aware," Rory smiled, pleased that Jess seemed to remember her long-forgotten idol. "You know I met her once?"

"Oh yeah?" he asked, eyebrows raised with interest. "On the trail?"

"No," her smile fell slightly. "Before all that. I was in my pajamas actually. She was staying at the Inn. Sookie saved me the crust off the French toast she had for breakfast."

"That's…thoughtful."

"I thought so," Rory smiled. "Anyway, Michel didn't want mom and me to introduce ourselves, because he was afraid we'd embarrass ourselves."

"Did you?"

"I gushed. Probably a little too much, but she was very nice and gave me her card. Said I should send her some of my stuff."

"And?"

"I went on tour, like, the next day and forgot about it. I lost the card actually…" she bit her bottom lip slightly, and waved her hand in a vague gesture. "It was a long time ago. Things are different."

Jess shrugged. "Amanpour has a husband and a kid. She made it work, so could you."

Rory smiled – those words sounded vaguely familiar. "Go back to your meeting. I'm going to take a nap…" She added a yawn for good measure, but Jess didn't buy it. "At least turn up the sound, Rory."

* * *

Jess was back at her (his) door at 10:30. "Rory?"

"Come in."

She was still in bed, now with the comforter kicked to the end of the bed, just a thin sheet covering her. She was watching an old episode of Dawson's Creek.

"Did you ever watch Dawson's Creek?" she asked Jess, but didn't wait for the answer. "It was bad then, but it's so good now. Just look at Dawson's hair! And his face!" She laughed, a loud, deep, appreciative laugh and Jess' lips pulled into a smile. At least she seemed ok.

"Can't say that I have, but it looks pretty bad…" he replied, digging his hands into his pants pockets. "So… Mattie and Chris left."

She silenced the TV and turned to him fully. "Good meeting?"

"Pretty productive," Jess nodded in reply. "Usually, I'd get coffee and a bagel at this place a couple blocks away. Do you want to… or do you have to get back?"

_Get back_. She weighed his words carefully. Eventually, yes, she'd have to get back, but not now. She couldn't deal with the mess. She could barely manage lying in Jess' bed, watching crappy TV without doubting her own sanity.

"A bagel and coffee sounds really good," she said, avoiding the other, more important question that hung in the air. "I just, um… I don't have clothes."

"No shirt, no shoes, no service.," Jess said, bobbing his head in understanding.

"Ah, they adhere to that rule here?" she laughed, looking around his room awkwardly, hoping to see something that she could use to wear out. After a few moments Jess spoke. "There's a vintage clothing store across the street. I'm sure they wouldn't care if you showed up…."

"…looking like a crazy lady?"

Jess just smiled. "It's all I've got."

"Alright." She picked up her black card from Jess's side table and ran a manicured finger over the raised numbers. "Looks like we're going to do some shopping!"

* * *

The old woman at the counter didn't even look up at the ring of the door as Jess and Rory entered. It was a vintage store in the classic sense. Dimly lit, with thick wooden beams lining the ceiling. There were racks and racks of clothing covering the small shop floor. Immediately, Rory – clad in her evening gown, covered with one of Jess's sweat shirts – set off to flit through the racks. Jess just stood there for a moment, before joining her.

"Hey, what about this?" he asked, pulling a bright lemon-yellow, fifties style dress with a sugar-white collar and big, white buttons down the chest, stopping at the waist line, where a small white bow was stitched.

Rory laughed, shaking her head, and moved past him to grab a deep purple shirt dress off the rack. "Now this is more like it. The cap sleeves, the fitted bodice, the flared skirt, the sash! This is all that is good about fifties' style clothing!" And she added it to her already growing pile of clothes.

After about 45 minutes in the store, with many of Jess's hilarious suggestions being vetoed by Rory, the pair left the store. Significant damage done to Rory's AMEX, all visible in the bags Jess was now toting. In addition to the purple dress, Rory bought a skirt with thick black, turquoise, and almond colored stripes and one pleated black skirt with a brown leather belt. She bought 1960s-style black ankle pants and a pair of eighties skinny jeans. She bought a flowy, cream-colored top with a bib collar and a mod style green-and-black cardigan. A handful of simple V-neck tees in a rainbow of colors and a pair of cropped sweatpants were added to the mix. For shoes, she picked up some slightly scuffed black ballet flats and a pair of corked wedges. A hip-length black blazer and a "have-to-have-it" draped wool-cape rounded out her purchases.

It was not what one would describe as a "just essentials" sort of a purchase, but Jess didn't have time question Rory as she was now entering the CVS drugstore on the corner. She was at the front of the store, in the make-up aisle. A tube of Maybeline's Great Lash mascara was in her basket, as well as a 4-pack of CoverGirl eye shadows in color 235 – pure romance, a tube of Rimmel Kiss & Stay lipgloss in 610 – desert beauty, and a Very Black liquilline blast CoverGirl eyeliner.

"Do you think I'm an Ivory Blush or Flax?" she asked holding up 2 small tubes of CoverGirl foundation.

"Um…"

"Number 310 it is," she said, without waiting for his answer, tossing the tube into her basket. "I think I wore this one in college. It's been forever since I've been to a CVS for make-up!" she laughed.

Jess followed her down the rows of the drugstore. They passed shampoo and Rory added a bottle of Sauve coconut shampoo and conditioner and an almond body wash to her basket. In the deodorant aisle, a Dove stick in pomegranate & lemon scent was added, a hairbrush and hair ties in the hair aisle, toothpaste and a toothbrush in dental. The basket was overflowing by the time she made it to the check-out girl and Rory swiped her card without looking at the total.

She turned to Jess. "Do you have a La Perla store?"

He shot her a curious look, but before he got a chance to respond, the check-out girl interrupted. "They sell it at this shop on South Street."

A wide, Emily-esque smile captured Rory's face. "Wonderful! Do you have their number?"

While Rory waited for her to find the number, Jess kept his eyes on her, gaze steady, but he didn't speak. Rory didn't want to hear what he had to say, anyway, so she kept her stupid grin plastered on her face, as if getting the CVS check-out girl to find the number to La Perla was a totally normal thing to do, especially when you just supposed to go out for coffee and a bagel.

The girl scribbled the number of the back of Rory's receipt. "Thanks," she said with a grateful smile and dialed La Perla as she followed Jess to the bagel bar. She placed an order for 2 Lulu push-up bras. One white, one black, and matching low-waist lace briefs. She threw in the silk robe – at a whopping 600 dollars – as an afterthought.

* * *

Jess watched patiently as Rory dumped 2 sugar sticks to her cappuccino. Rory's eyes were fixed on her coffee; it took the crystals a while to sink through the thick milk foam, and she didn't want to speed up the process by poking them through with her little wooden stirrer.

Jess wasn't talking. He'd never been much of a talker, but Rory knew this wasn't his usual, I'm-not-a-chatty-person deal. She wondered, maybe, if he was mad and chanced a glance at him. He had ordered a latte, no sugar, but was fiddling with his stirrer just the same.

"This is a nice place," she said. Her comment didn't necessitate words, but his eyes went to hers and he nodded. "Good coffee, too." She emphasized her point by taking a giant sip and he nodded again, and took a sip of his latte.

The waitress came with their bagels – everything with cream cheese and chives for her, cinnamon raisin with regular cream cheese for him - and they ate in silence. Rory wondered if she'd made a mistake in coming here. It was silly for her to think Jess would be there for her. They weren't friends any more, she was just an investor in his project. A silent one at that.

"You bought a lot of stuff," he said, eyeing the bags piled next to Rory on the dusty floor of the café. Rory looked down at the bags and shrugged. "What is much?"

Jess's lips tugged upwards a little and he rolled his eyes. "Come on, Rory. It's not exactly emergency shopping. It looks like you plan on staying for a while…."

His words sucker punched her. She hadn't thought about anything when she left. She just needed to go. And now that she'd left, going back seemed unbearable . How could she make it up to Logan? To Lottie? It was easier to stay here in Philadelphia with Jess, holed up in this coffee place. It was awkward and she felt uncomfortable under Jess's stern look, but it was manageable.

"I called your mom."

Rory swallowed. Of course he would call her mom.

"I just… I didn't know if she knew where you were." He fingered the rim of his coffee mug. "Or if Logan knew. You can stay. As long as you need to, but someone needed to know."

She nodded again, slowly. He was right. That was the rational thing to do. "Thanks." She tried a small smile, but failed. He stopped talking again and bit of a piece of his bagel. Rory noticed for the first time that he was leaning over the table, his feet more to the side of the chair than in front of it, almost in in a pounce-like position. He jiggled his left foot. She couldn't remember if he was a jiggler. Or maybe he was just nervous. Because of her. Honestly, she made herself nervous, too.

"I…" she inhaled deeply, "I'm going to go back, Jess. Tomorrow. I just need to…I don't know…figure a couple things out." She nipped her bottom lip and averted her gaze. She didn't want to see his face if he sent her packing, despite what he'd just said.

He just nodded as if he understood and threw a twenty on the table. "Let's go home."

* * *

Rory spent the rest of the day curled up on the couch in her new La Perla robe. Jess had a given her full control over his DVD collection. He sat next to her on the couch, tapping away on his laptop, but still keeping a watchful eye, as if she was some mental patient. If she laughed too loud at Hard Bodies or re-wound the Sophia death in the Godfather too many times, he'd shoot her a concerned look.

Eventually, after many movies, Chinese takeout, and what seemed like a million meaningful looks from Jess, Rory fell asleep. It was one of those hibernation-like sleeps. Oblivious, dreamless and so far gone you might as well be dead. Jess gently shut his laptop and put a blanket over her. Happy, at least, that she was able to get some much-needed sleep.

He set the laptop down on the desk in his study and reached for the phone. It rung a couple times and there was a lot of background noise before a clear voice came through the line.

"Hello?"

Jess wasn't surprised to hear this voice, though it made this conversation so much harder.

"Logan?"

"Yeah…" Jess visualized Logan's face hardening. "Jess? Is Rory there?"

He sighed deeply. "Look man, don't jump to conclusions."

"Conclusions!" Logan shouted in a whisper. The background noise died down – Logan must've taken this conversation to somewhere more private. "My wife left me in the middle of the night and ended up with you. What am I supposed to think?"

"Not that," Jess shot back. "She just needed someplace to go."

"She should've gone to Lorelai!"

"And where would that leave you, huh?"

"Her grandparents. Hell, my parents!"

The line went silent for a moment. Both knowing that Hartford was an unrealistic solution.

"It doesn't matter where she could have gone. She came here."

"She's coming back." Jess winced – he knew Logan had meant it forceful, threatening – but it came out sounding like a question.

"Just…do me a favor and stay at Lorelai's for a while, okay?"

* * *

When Rory wasn't in the office on Monday, Michum thought nothing of it. Rory wasn't one to work from home, but she had an office set up, and maybe Lottie was sick. But when Rory didn't show up on Tuesday, Mitchum had his assistant phone Rory's assistant. He grunted when his she clumsily explained that neither she or Rory's assistant had been able to reach Rory or Logan. On Wednesday, Mitchum picked up the phone and dialed himself, leaving a string of angry voice messages for Logan and several business-questions-laced-with-concern for Rory. Thursday came, and Mitchum called Finn, which put him in a car down to Stars Hallow by midday.

* * *

"It's a classic," Lorelai said as she handed Logan a plate of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. "Everyone eats PB&J. I even cut it into 4 pieces. That's old school." She balled her hand into a fist and thumped her chest.

Logan shook his head, making a face at the sandwich before passing it on to Lottie. "Peanut butter and jelly. Seriously Lot?"

"As a grape," she said, dragging a chubby finger through the layer of grape jelly.

"Oh, come on now, jam hands," Logan laughed, "how I've missed you." He grabbed a piece of damp paper towel that Lorelai was holding. "I know. I'm psychic."

Logan just smiled as he started wiping Lottie's hands. " And this is why I don't feed her PB&J."

"But it's a classic. Why deprive her?"

"Because…" But before Logan could go into it, the bell rang. "Now who could that be?" Lorelai wondered out loud. "Maybe it's Grandpa Luke, bringing French fries and hamburgers. Ask your daddy what those are, sweets!"

"A classic!" Logan replied sarcastically, and laughed as Lottie giggled at her Glama's antics.

Lorelai opened the door, but Mitchum didn't have the patience or decency to say hello or wait to be invited in. He just walked past her, heading straight for the kitchen.

* * *

Rory had just wanted to give herself a moment the calm down, catch her breath. Go into sloth mode and watch movies on Jess' couch in her La Perla robe. She was grateful that he let her be. He didn't say much, not about her sorry, sloth-like state, not about the investment, nothing about work, Logan, or Lottie. He was just there. Every so often, he refilled her coffee cup or supplied her with the next DVD box in his Friends collection. It wasn't supposed to last more than a day. But Sunday rolled into Monday and she had her pillow, and a remote, and a box of day-old Chinese food. Besides, his couch was so comfortable.

By Tuesday, her hair had gotten that greasy shine and her legs were all stubbly, but didn't matter. Any sexual tension that they'd had in San Francisco (or had she imagined that?) was gone, and honestly, she didn't know if she could handle that. At least she still had her CVS bags of beauty products scattered across Jess' bedroom floor. Not that she would shower, though. Not today.

On Wednesday, she moved from the left side of the couch to the right side. It was big, bold move, and Jess cracked a joke about it, which wasn't really that funny. Didn't he realize that she was broken inside? Even her own body knew – she was sore, she could hear her heartbeat in her head, and her stomach ached, like it was splitting in two.

"Hunger pains," Jess said, noting that her diet consisted solely of Lucky Charms, Chinese take-out, M&Ms, Red Vines, and pizza.

Long after Jess went to bed that night, Rory was still up – she'd made it all the way to season 9 and she was determined to finish the disc, did her stomach ache worsen and suddenly a familiar pang came over her. A cramp. A short, sharp pain that sliced through her core. Unmistakable.

And she realized, her body wasn't broken anymore. _She_ was no longer broken. Being here, watching Friends DVDs on Jess' couch, had somehow, magically, coaxed her period out of her. Fixed it. Made it better. Made her better. Simultaneously, though, she knew that _nothing_ was better, _everything_ still had to be fixed. She had so much apologizing and explaining to do. But she was hopeful. If her body was strong enough to fix itself, surely, she was strong enough to fix the rest?

Somewhere between episode 9.19 and 9.22 Rory drifted off and didn't awaken until she smelled the coffee Jess was brewing.

* * *

"You okay?" he asked, furrowing his brow in concern at Rory's goofy smile.

"I got my period," Rory announced and she watched as Jess looked away uncomfortably, before realization set it.

"That's good news, isn't it?"

Rory nodded, taking the steaming mug of java from Jess. "Do you want, uh, an aspirin or something?" he asked.

"No, I'm good." And in truth, she was fine. She was never one of those women who skipped gym class because of cramps or suffered from terrible, hormone-related migraines. Besides, the subtle, constant pain reminded her that she was alive and well. That she had something to fight for, and she didn't want to numb that pain.

"I'm going to take a shower," Rory told him, looping a finger around her hair (by now it had become so greasy that it almost looked clean) "and then, maybe…" she looked away shyly, her eyes hitching on Jess's couch. Her pillow, the blanket, the dirty coffee mugs, candy wrappers, take out containers. All a testament to her break-down. She shook her head hard. "I wanted to ask if you could drive me to Stars Hallow?"

Jess' eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Stars Hallow?"

"That's where he is, right?"

He didn't need to ask who. He knew. And he was proud of her. Happy, excited to see that spark back in her eyes. "Yeah. He's there."

* * *

**And what will follow is the smackdown to end all smackdowns. We've got Rory-Logan-Jess, Mitchum-Logan-Rory, Mitchum-Rory-Jess, Lorelai-Logan-Rory, Lorelai-Rory, Rory-Logan, Jess-Logan. Just, a whole bunch going on, what with promised babies, missing periods, business "investments", book deals... Drama drama drama (ps: i know a bunch of y'all thought the period thing was going to be a pregnancy and/or serious medical disease, but honestly, i always intended it to be stress related and something that would aid Rory's temporary mental breakdown).  
**


	18. Confrontations Part I

Logan saw Lottie's grow bigger at the sound of the quick paced steps before he realized who would cause his young daughter such distress. The booming sound of Mitchum's voice was unmistakable. "Logan!"

Logan swallowed and gave his daughter an apologetic smile. "Hey!" Lorelai shouted after Mitchum, "This is my house and I didn't invite you in here!"

Mitchum didn't acknowledge her. "Hey!" Lorelai shouted again, "Do not ignore me. You do not get to ignore me in my own house! Did I ever just burst into your house and start shouting?!"

"Lore…" Logan sighed and gestured vaguely. "I just…"

"Yeah, alright," she nodded, angrily brushing past Mitchum, and scooping up Lottie out of her high chair.

Logan kept his eyes on his dad, whose eyes, in turn, followed Lorelai and his terrified looking granddaughter out of the room. The sound of his son's terse cough brought him back to where he was. Standing in his trench coat, in the middle of Lorelai's kitchen, in Stars Hallow, trying to figure out what the hell happened to his son and his wife.

"So, Dad…what brings you to Stars Hallow?"

Mitchum scoffed, "I'm not here for false pleasantries, son. Where's Rory?"

Logan coughed, eyebrows raised. "Ah, deadline's coming up, isn't it, Dad? You want to make sure your new department publishes a winner, right?" He realized too late that his comments made him sound bitter and jealous and Mitchum knew that, too.

His lips curled into a menacing smile. "You're jealous?

"Not at all," Logan said and self-consciously wiped his jam hands on a nearby dishrag. "I just think it's pathetic that it took you this long to realize Rory hasn't been in the office all week."

"You want to know what I think is pathetic?" Mitchum asked in a quiet voice. He didn't wait for Logan to answer, but started pacing around the kitchen. "I think it's pathetic that my son left a great leadership position at one of the best companies in the world to sit at home and play house. I think it's pathetic that he lets the jealousy get the better of him and throws a child-like tantrum at the Book Ball!"

"Oh, Jim Toms is an asshole!" Logan shouted, "He should just go fuck himself!"

"Very mature, son," Mitchum said, "You want to raise your daughter with a mouth like that?"

"At least I'm raising her, Dad, which is more than you can say."

"I was off building a company, one that ensured you the luxury you've surrounded yourself with. The prep schools, the Porsche, sinking yachts in Tahiti, Ivy-league college education…. That 5 million dollar trust fund, that's what I did for you!"

Logan ran an angry hand through his blond hair. "You want a thank-you card? "Cause I'm not coming back, Dad."

"You are making a mistake."

"I'm not."

"Just admit it, Logan. You miss it. The big boardroom smack downs, kicking ass getting things done. Power!"

"Lottie is more important than any of that, Dad," Logan shot back, "I don't want her to be raised by nannies like I was. I want her to know her dad."

"And her mom? Because I don't see a mother here, son!"

"It's because you keep her at HPG!"

"Bullshit!" Mitchum shot back. "Rory is set up with a home-office; she can write her own hours, divide her time. She has more freedom than anyone I've employed! That she chooses not to use it is a great testament of her devotion to her career."

Logan's brow furrowed. Was Mitch implying that it was devotion she didn't show to her family? And since when had Mitchum changed the rules, given her so much freedom? Or had she chose not to tell him?

He balled his hand into a fist. "I support Rory's career," Logan said, clenching his jaw. "I want her to do well."

"Obviously," Mitchum retorted. "Someone has to live up to the Huntzberger name."

"I don't want the Huntzberger name!" Logan shouted, "I'm not your monkey, Dad. You can't force me to work for you! You can't!"

"I'm not," Mitchum shrugged, "I'm just showing you were you stand. In your mother-in-law's kitchen, covered in jam, with bags under your eyes, broken. And where is your wife?

Mitch waited a beat, noticing that Logan's gaze hardened before answering his own question. "Fucking some writer in Philly."

* * *

Rory fiddled with the green straw of her Starbucks frappucino as some auto-tuned chick sang about a love story on the radio.

"You can change the station, if you want, "Jess offered, not taking his eyes off the road.

"Oh, yeah," she mumbled, absent-mindedly pressing a button to reveal the next pre-selected radio station. It was the same song, just 30 seconds later. She didn't notice. Or care, really, why Jess' car seemed to have only pop-friendly radio station on pre-select.

Jess smiled a little at the pop-tune, "This is Mattie's sister's car." But Rory didn't respond. Instead she returned to straw-fiddling and wondered why it was so difficult to get all of the whipped cream out of the plastic cup.

Jess didn't mind Rory's being quiet. The whole situation was difficult enough, what with the assumption of them having an affair, the fifty-thousand dollar loan, HPG's offer, San Francisco, their past… It wasn't as if anything said over the course of a 2-hour car ride was going to worsen the situation, but still; he didn't want to take any chances.

* * *

"She's not," Logan responded stubbornly. "Nothing happened."

"So, you and Rory are just peachy?"

Logan wanted to smack that smug look of Mitchum's face. "She just needed to – I don't know – get away for a few days."

"Right," Mitchum said, sarcasm lacing his tone.

"Does it matter, Dad? Does it, really? As long as she hooks that damn Willis Norman and that damn book gets published and becomes a roaring success, does it really matter, Dad, if Rory and I are together? Do you really care?"

Mitchum's eyes shot up in surprise, "So, you've separated?"

"No."

"But something's had to have happened."

"Nothing's happened."

"Roy is in Philadelphia." He left out the "fucking Jess" part, but Logan couldn't help but realize the implication and hated that he couldn't deny the fact that he thought the very same.

"Finn told you," he said finally. "Finn told you what happened."

"Just that you were here and Rory wasn't."

Logan nodded and mumbled something, before sitting down, somewhat admitting his defeat. He was tired. Mitchum also sat down, awkwardly pushing a plate of PB&J crusts out of the way.

"We fought. During the Book Ball, after the Book Ball. We fought. But we made up, and, um, in the morning… at least… um," Logan let out a hallow laugh, "I thought she'd gone back to New York."

* * *

Rory wasn't sure if she should use her own house key, use the spare under the turtle, or just ring the doorbell. She saw Lottie's stroller on the porch, propped next to the swinging bench, like it always belonged there. She looked at Jess, willing him to take the lead.

"Hey sugar!" Babette's thick voice carried across the yard, "They're all inside. Just go on in, I'm sure they're waiting for you!"

Jess shot Babette a look, causing her to get back to her gardening, and a smile to tug at Rory's lips. They'd better get in the house soon; otherwise they'd cause a scene.

Rory sighed heavily as Jess' strong hand turned the door knob, while the other rested on the small of her back, gently pushing her into the hallway.

"Oh, so the prodigal daughter returns," Lorelai snapped, even before Rory made it into the living room.

Rory didn't get the chance to start back, as the shouting coming from the kitchen was deafening.

"Even if we get divorced, I'm not going back! I'm never going back!" Logan shouted.

"So you'll just live off your trust? Princesses and tea parties and teddy bears?! What kind of life is that; what kind of example for Lottie?"

"Sounds pretty damn good to me," Logan yelled.

"Children need to know about hard work, how to make money, where it comes from."

"So you want her to start at HPG when she's sixteen? Summer internships like me, is that it, huh? You've got her career all planned out? She's allowed to have choices – she has free will!"

"She's an heiress. She needs to know her responsibilities!"

"She's a baby, she doesn't have responsibilities!"

"But she will! She carries the Huntzberger name, she represents us, she's an extension of the business."

"I'll change her name," Logan retorted stubbornly.

"To what? Gilmore?!" Mitchum shot back, "Richard isn't exactly Joe the Plumber, Logan. Heck, even Danes owns a diner. If he ever franchises, she'll be heiress to a whole fleet of greasy spoons!"

"Jesus, Dad! How many times do I have to tell you, Luke won't franchise!"

"He's stupid!"

"Just because he doesn't want a big, fancy corporate affair doesn't make him stupid!"

"He's got a wife and a kid – he should think about how to provide for them. Make things better."

"He wanted to buy the Twickham House for Lorelai! He fixed Lorelai's house and jeep. He cooks every day. He sent April to space camp and science camp and language camp. He does it all!" Logan was becoming exasperated.

"Christopher could have done more!"

"Dad!" Logan yelled, "You don't even know what happened!"

"I know class, and I know Christopher Hayden is a stand-up man."

"Yes," Lorelai interjected, purposefully amping up the drama, "a man who wanted to marry me, because I got pregnant, not because he loved me. Very stand-up!"

"Lorelai," Logan said apologetically, but she waived it away. "You can't win that one, sweets. I know; I've tried for 30 years."

Mitchum glanced at Logan, hating that he favored his mother-in-law over him, and then at Lorelai, and then, finally, he noticed Rory standing a few good feet behind her mother. "Rory!" he said delightedly. "You've returned."

Logan instantaneously snapped his neck towards the door and saw his wife standing there. He swallowed hard as he realized Jess was standing behind Rory. "Jess."

Rory awkwardly glanced at Logan – but couldn't make eye-contact – before flicking to Mitchum, trying to assess the situation and finally looking back at Jess, who was still standing behind her. He was too close; she was sure it looked like his hands were on her back.

"Well," Lorelai drew in a breath, before exhaling slowly. "I'm going to make some coffee." As she busied herself with coffee grounds and filters, Rory and Jess shuffled into the kitchen. Everyone desperately tried not to make eye-contact, all pretending to be highly invested in the drip-drip-drip of the coffee maker.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Rory looked at her husband. "Logan," she started shakily, and looked back at Jess for support. At his encouraging nod, Logan snapped.

"Are you fucking him?"

Jess dropped his head and let out a loud, annoyed sigh. "Nothing is going on between us, man. I told you before. We're old friends. We're family. Rory just needed a place to crash."

"But she went to you," Mitchum said. "If she just needed a place to crash, she could have gone to any one of the homes we own."

"Yeah, because that's really comforting in a time of need," Jess snarled.

"I'd watch my mouth, son," Mitchum warned, "you don't know who you're dealing with."

"Mitchum Huntzberger, CEO of HPG?" Jess retorted. "I know who you are. I declined your offer."

"And what a damn shame that is," Mitchum said, "You're a talented writer. How terrible to know that you'll never get the recognition that you deserve."

"You don't need a big publishing house to back you," Rory said quickly, "just investors." And as she said it, she regretted it, because she knew Mitchum knew.

"Investors?" Mitchum questioned hotly, "Or investor?"

She averted her gaze under his scrutinizing stare. "It's my money, Mitchum, and it's a project I believe in."

"You invested money?" Logan interjected. "_Our_ money? How much!?"

"_My_ money," Rory clarified, "from my trust. And I don't have to tell either of you how much."

"You might have to tell a fucking lawyer how much," Mitchum snapped, "it's a conflict of interest, Rory! You're a silent investor in someone else's company, who is in the same market as your employer. That's illegal!"

Rory shot Jess a questioning look. Unethical, sure, but was it really illegal?

"I'm not in it for the profit, Mitchum," Rory waved his concerns away. "I just want Jess to be able to publish his book."

"So you should've persuaded him to sign with us!" Mitchum slapped his hand on the table, "not put your own money into the project. I'm calling the lawyers!'"

As Mitchum stomped off, Lorelai set three cups of steaming coffee down on the table. "You should really talk," she advised, before leaving the kitchen.

* * *

All three stared down at their cups of coffee, but no one dared to speak and the coffee was still too hot to drink.

"I thought one tiny little publishing house couldn't make it without the help of the big man?" Jess said softly, sarcastically.

"Where did you get the money from?" Logan interrupted, "from the big man!"

"It's my money!" Rory interrupted, "If I wanted to give Jess a hundred-thousand, I could have!"

"You gave him a hundred thousand dollars?!" Logan's eyes grew wide, "and you didn't tell me?!"

"I didn't give him a hundred grand."

"How much did you give him?"

"Fifty."

"Fifty-thousand dollars!" Logan exclaimed, "Are you out of your mind?!"

"It's my money, Logan. We have the money…"

"It's not about the fucking money, Rory! You didn't tell me! When did you decide it was ok to just stop telling me things?"

"I tell you everything!"

Logan raised one skeptical eyebrow. "Just like you told me about not getting your period?"

"I got my period!"

"You did?"

"I did." She boldly crossed her arms, "do you need to check or do you trust me?"

"I…I trust you. I just… I thought you might be pregnant," he said softly.

Rory looked at her husband for a moment, before turning her head away. "I told you I wasn't."

"I know…, "he shrugged, "I just thought…"

"Well, don't think," she spat. "God, Logan. Don't make me feel guilty about this, too."

"I'm not."

"You are! I know what kind of promise I made – you don't have to hold it over my head."

"I'm not."

Rory shot him a pointed look and Logan was looking to pick a fight. "Get out Jess. Can you just get the fuck out of this kitchen so my wife and I can talk? She's still my wife, you know. Mine."

Jess' lips pulled into a twisted smile, "I'm not interested."

"Just interested enough though, to take her money."

"I gave him the money," Rory yelled, "I gave it to him!"

"So, you admit it?" Logan quickly looked at Rory before looking at Jess and back to Rory again. "That you cheated?"

"Logan, just stop! I didn't have sex with Jess. I've never had sex with Jess!"

He shot Jess a skeptical look and Jess just shrugged. "I skipped town when we were still in high school, remember? "

Rory turned to Jess, "It doesn't matter, it's not the point. I'm defending this – I didn't cheat!" And then she turned to Logan. "It's me you're mad at, so stop getting mad at everyone else. It's me you should be yelling at!"

Logan shot Jess another dirty look, but he simply nodded, squeezed Rory's shoulder and left the room. It stayed silent for a moment. Rory challenging him with her look and Logan filled with anger, fists clenched, and jaws tight as the tension in the air.

"Logan…" Rory said again, softly. Pleadingly.

"You left," he said. Those two words, so soft, so simply, and they carried so much weight. She left the party, she she left DC, she left him. And Lottie. She went to Jess instead. She swallowed hard and looked away and bit her lip hard to stop the tears that threatened to fall.

Rory couldn't stand to look at Logan like this. It wasn't her Logan; this was a man who cut a desperate figure against Lorelai's otherwise so bright kitchen. This man, with his voice raw and raspy from shouting, deep blue circles under his eyes, was a man she didn't recognize as her husband.

"I did," she admitted with a heavy nod of her head. "I did leave."

"You lied."

She sighed. Yes, she'd lied. About her missing period, about being happy, at being ok with being on tour, about wanting another baby right away…She lied about so much, she'd lost count of what was real and what was fake.

"You went to Jess."

She folded her arms across her chest and snorted. "So that's what this is about? Jess?! _I didn't sleep with him Logan. Honestly._"

"It's not about that, Rory! It's about you not coming to me – _your husband!_ – to talk about this stuff. It's about leaving your daughter for a week!"

"I didn't mean to."

"But you did."

"I did."

Logan and Rory stood there in silence. Her biting the bottom of her lip, arms crossed tightly over her chest, hip impatiently cocked to the side, even though she knew that the problems between them wouldn't not be resolved any time soon. Logan, for how ever angry he was, wasn't as tense. Tight-jawed and stony-eyed, hands on his hips, and lips parted ever so slightly as if he was just catching his breath. The two waited in uncomfortable silence until Logan spoke.

"If you weren't ready for a second baby, you could've just told me, he said finally.

Could she have? Of course, in theory she could have told him after the sea of pregnancy tests. But his hopeful look, that hope he'd been holding onto since she'd told him about finishing the book, since Lot's birth. Oh, he wanted another kid so, so, so much and she wasn't just going to dash those dreams. So she shrugged and smiled and said "ok".

"I…" She was going to say sorry, but she was too pissed off to apologize. "This is not my fault, Logan. You can't make this my fault!"

"I'm not saying it's your fault!" he shouted, "I'm just saying - "

"Could you not "just say"? God! You also could've not said anything at that stupid Children's Ball, but you had to go and tell Jim Toms to fuck himself!"

"I messed up! Jeez! Let it go!"

"Just like you're going to let this baby thing go?" Rory shot back, eyebrows raised, her cheeks flushed.

Logan shook his head. "This baby thing is on an entirely different level from Jim Toms. I don't give a shit about Jim Toms, Rory."

"You should if you ever want to go back to work. He's in our circle."

He rolled his eyes, "Thanks for that, Mitchum. Really, really appreciate it."

"Oh come on, Logan. You know it's true."

"I care more about a baby than Jim Toms, Rory!"

"I know!" she shouted.

And he shot right back, "And you don't!"

She swallowed hard. And basically, that's what it boiled down to. She cared, oh, she cared so much about Logan and Lottie and the promise of another baby. Of course she did. She loved them. But when it came down to it, to the nitty-gritty, that thing that she wanted more than anything else was to be kick Jim's ass in business. To keep HPG the top paper company in the world, and to expand it to the top publishing house.

And Logan…he had all the knowledge in the world about HPG and the Jim Toms and the industry and his godforsaken name that forever linked him to the company and responsibility, but it wasn't important anymore. Maybe because the preparation for his role had started on the day of his 16th birthday, but in his heart he knew that it didn't make him happy. At least, not as happy as Lottie's smile in the morning or that sense of pride he felt the moment she took her first steps or spoke her first word. And then, his wife, he loved her so much, and after a long day, all he wanted to do was open a bottle of wine and kick back on the couch and spend time with her. Be in love with her like he was with in her college. Do silly things, go to New York, visit a gallery or have dinner at a ludicrously expensive restaurant, go to Maui or something.

Rory couldn't deny it. Logan was right, they both knew it. So, she sighed heavily instead, blinking back the tears.

"So, now what?" Logan asked

"I don't know," she spoke softly, quietly, not quite able to meet Logan's gaze.

"And what about HPG? And Willis and his novel?"

"I don't know."

"And Jess? And the money?"

"I don't know."

"And Lottie? Huh? And a new baby? A sibling for our kid, Rory?"

"I…I don't know, Logan. I don't." Rory said, her tears now falling in big drops onto her mother's kitchen floor. And she looked up to meet her husband's gaze head on in anticipation of his last question.

"And me? What about me, Ace?"

She wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater. "I don't know," she whispered, her voice cracking. His head dropped and he took a few deep breaths. "Okay," he said after a while, because, really, what else can you say after a verbal kick in the gut.

It appeared, after Logan's little questionnaire that Rory didn't have a lot of answers to important questions, and she felt terrible about that. More than terrible, really, but she didn't know how to articulate that. Especially when she might never have answers to those questions, but still. She hated that she didn't this to Logan, and to herself, and to them.

She took a step closer to Logan, and extended her arm to awkwardly brush his. "Hey," she said slowly, "I love you, you know that, right? I know it may not seem like it now. And I know it's all messed up, but I still love you. I mean…" she smiled a little coyly, "…that part never stopped."

Logan barely managed a nod – he wasn't sure if he could believe her, but he wanted to and so he nodded.

"You have to trust that," she said, "I don't want to lose you."

"And your freedom?" he asked quietly, careful not to let his voice crack. And Rory nodded understandingly. "I want to fix this." She waited a beat, cupping his chin in her hand, forcing him to look at her. "I love you and I want to fix this."

And he nodded back, resting his head against her forehead. But she pulled away, "I have to go."

"Home?" his eyebrows raised in confusion. "It's late. Stay…we'll go home tomorrow."

"I…" she sighed heavily. "I can't, Logan. Not tonight. Not after everything. I need…we need…I just need to think."

He nodded as if he understood, but he didn't, and his eyes followed her as she made her way out of her mother's kitchen.

* * *

"Luke!" Rory called out as she entered the living room, "is it okay if I sleep at the diner?"

Luke was sitting on the couch, flipping through the paper. Lorelai was upstairs dealing with Lottie, and quite frankly, Luke didn't want to get too involved in all of the goings-on in the Gilmore-Huntzberger household.

"Oh jeez, Rory…no one has been up there in ages. It'll be all dusty and moldy."

Rory shrugged, "it's probably not moldy and I can handle a little dust…"

"We've got a guest bedroom, you know.." Lorelai said flatly as she made her way down the stairs. "Obviously it's not the Ritz, but it's still pretty comfortable."

"And Jess?"

"What about him?" Lorelai asked, not hiding the challenge in her tone.

"Eh," Luke sighed, "he can stay at the diner…"

"Fine! I'll take the guest room!" Rory stomped up the stairs.

"Go ahead!" Lorelai shouted to her daughter's retreating figure and muttered, "you should just sleep in your old bedroom with your husband!"

Luke snaked his arms around Lorelai's wife and pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "It's all going to be fine."

Lorelai looked back and gave him a doubtful stare. "How do you know?"

"I just…" he grinned a little. "I know."

* * *

**Well. Would you look at that! An update! **

**I know. Believe me, I KNOW! Trust, though, that I read every review and PM and fully intend to finish these stories. I just can't put a time limit on them. Also, for those interesting in the plot, trust Luke. He knows. Know also that there's still Lorelai-Rory, Jess-Logan, Jess-Rory confrontations. And the whole HPG/Mitchum thing. It'll work out though. Luke knows.  
**


	19. Confrontations Part II

Jess walked into the kitchen sometime after the house had gone quiet. Luke told him he could stay in his old apartment above the diner tonight, if he wasn't feeling up to the drive back to Philly. He'd nodded and given his uncle a half-smile, those two gestures saying as much as the thousand-words-a-minute conversations Rory and Lorelai could have.

Jess hadn't expected to see Logan sitting at the kitchen table warming his hands around a mug of tea. The paper was folded open but it was clear that he wasn't reading it. Logan glanced up.

"I just came in for a glass of water," Jess announced, "I'm going to stay at the diner tonight." He felt Logan's eyes on him as he grabbed a polka-dot decorated glass from the cupboard. He slid over to the sink and let the water run cold for a few moments before placing his glass under the tap. He didn't make eye contact with Logan as he turned on is heel and proceeded to walk out of the kitchen.

"Wait," Logan called out after him. And Jess shot him a curious look, but didn't speak. "I...um..." Logan coughed, "I know you and Rory aren't fooling around."

Jess furrowed his brows a little before nodding slowly. "Okay."

"And I know you're old friends. She told me about San Francisco."

"Yeah," Jess nodded again.

"And I understand why she gave you the money," Logan fixed his eyes on Jess, but Jess didn't seem to be intimidated by Logan's stare. "I understand why you took it."

Jess nodded for the third time. "I'm not looking for your approval," he said "but thanks." And then he shrugged, "I just figured she would've told you. And I didn't realize how complicated this HPG stuff was."

Logan chuckled, "Anything with Mitchum is complicated by default. You're smart for taking the money and running, so to speak."

"I guess."

"It's Trix's money. Her great-grandmother's. Gilmore dough through and through. So, you know, technically, it's just an investment, you're not really going corporate." Logan cracked a small smile, and looked at Jess. "You know Trix married her second cousin?"

"Huh."

"Yep," Logan chuckled, shaking his head, "doesn't get more Gilmore than that."

Jess laughed. "There's some novel potential in that." And Logan nodded and gestured for Jess to take the seat across from him. "She's going to be ok, right?"

"Rory?" Jess asked, and let out a deep sigh. "It's all gonna work out."

"How can you be so sure?"

"It has to work out," Jess said. "She loves you, you know? That kind of crazy, I'd-drink-a-vile-of-poison-and-die-for-you kind of love. Love like that always works out."

Logan took a sip from his tea. "They die."

Jess shrugged. "Still." And Logan shrugged in return. It stayed silent between the boys for a few moments. Jess got up and walked to the fridge to exchange his water for beer. He grabbed one for Logan as well. He took a sip from his ice-cold Heineken, before addressing Logan.

"Rory likes to plan. Like to the extreme. That's why she's probably struggling with this second kid thing so much."

Logan thoughtfully cocked his head to the side. Too tired to really argue, he felt the familiar sting of annoyance burn through his body. "How so?"

"Kids can't be planned – it just kind of happens."

Logan thought about that for a while. He hated that Jess seemed to be making a valid point, but for all intents and purposes he was. Rory flat-out hated the casual start of their relationship. And she could rant and rant and rant about Mitchum's last-minute meetings, dragging him to London, throwing a wrench in their plans. Understandable, sure, but still.

And she had her research on everything from baby formula to the East Coast's top pre-schools and her schedules and her lists. Organized, well-documented, planned, Rory was all of that.

"Lottie happened."

Jess nodded. "Right. Unplanned. And she freaked, right?"

"She thought she was sick," Logan said, instantly recalling the day. He was making breakfast, she lay sick in bed. At first, he thought she was worried about some kind of writing deadline when she said she was late. "We got a test. The stick turned pink. I guess we were both kind of freaked. But never once did we talk about not having it – that was not even an option."

"I know," Jess said, "but in that case, she had no choice. Having Lottie was her only option. Now she has options, it's more complicated."

In a twisty way, Logan understood what Jess was saying. The pressure of the promise was maybe too much and she had so much going on at HPG – how could she factor in a baby?

"Babies freak me out, man" Jess said, downing the last of his beer, "so what the hell do I know?"

* * *

Mitchum wasn't much of a diner man. To him, these kind of establishments always seemed to be coated in grease. Unsteady tables covered in plastic tablecloths, uninspired menus, and iced-tea from a powder mix. However, he had a good reason to be visiting one today.

Luke had told him he'd be able to find Jess here, and so it was: Jess was slouched on a bar stool, engrossed in a book. He looked up when Mitchum walked in, and Jess had the courtesy to look at him for about half a second before dropping his eyes to his book.

"Incredibly Loud and Extremely Close", Mitchum said, pointing at Jess' book. "Seems a bit too mainstream for you, doesn't it?"

"You know what they say about books and covers?" Jess replied, without looking up.

Mitchum nodded, almost somewhat respectfully. As if he enjoyed that Jess was giving him a hard time.

"I'm here to talk business."

Jess flipped the page. "I figured."

"I don't beat around the bush."

Jess put the book down and gave him a sarcastic smile. "Shoot."

"I want to sign you to HPG," Mitchum told him and Jess smirked. "I know. Rory made an offer."

"I'm not Rory," Mitchum responded easily, "and my offer is quite a bit different."

Jess raised his eyebrows in amusement and went back to his book. "You're wasting your breath, Grandpa."

Mitchum dug his hands into his trench coat pockets and laughed. "You get that pride thing from your uncle Luke, you know that? I've known him 5 years and still can't convince him to franchise this greasy spoon."

Jess cocked his head to the side. "To each his own."

"You're kind of a punk," Mitchum observed.

"You don't know me."

"I know people and I know you're kind of a punk." And with that, Mitchum sat down on a stool and waited and Jess read. Jess got a re-fill on his coffee and Mitchum was presented a fresh cup. Jess flipped the page and Mitchum leafed through the paper.

After several cups of coffee, page flipping and leafing through papers, Jess looked at Mitchum.

"So you're just going to sit there all day?"

"No place else to be."

"Huh." And Jess bobbed his head back and forth, contemplating, internally debating, and finally, with a loud sigh, agreeing. "Fine! Talk!"

* * *

Rory hadn't slept much at all last night. She couldn't read and she couldn't watch TV. All she could do was lay there and stare at the ceiling. She kept on mulling over the questions Logan asked, but she couldn't come up with satisfactory answers. A few times, she wanted to kick off the covers and go downstairs to her old bedroom and curl up next to him and pretend nothing had happened, that nothing had changed, that they weren't irrevocably broken. But she couldn't.

She promised she'd fix this and that she loved him. And right now, she could only make good on one promise. She hoped though that that love was enough to fix everything.

The sharp knock on her door dragged her from her melancholy thoughts. "I brought coffee." Rory smiled at her mother's voice. "Come in."

"Morning," Lorelai smiled and Rory gratefully accepted the coffee. "Thanks, Mom."

Lorelai sat down on the bed and the pair of them sipped their coffee in silence for a while. Rory knew her mother was waiting to talk, but she couldn't muster up the energy to delve into with her. Not yet at least.

"Hon," Lorelai said, reaching out to pat Rory's knee.

"I know, Mom," Rory said sincerely. "And I'm so sorry about everything."

"I know."

"But I just can't talk about it right now."

Lorelai nodded and sipped some more of her coffee. Impatient, but understanding nonetheless.

* * *

Over the years, the Dragonfly Inn established itself as one of America's best small town inns. It was the kind of place that captured that kind of whimsical, somewhat nostalgic, never really-real, but kind of imagined image people had of a small town. Old-fashioned and charming, but rooms with Wi-Fi and flat-screen TVs.

It was the kind of place you could honeymoon or celebrate the grandparent's 50th wedding anniversary. But it was also the place where a little kid could have a fabulous birthday party or where a family could have a great meal. In short, it was nice. And all the niceness didn't mesh to well with Mitchum Huntzberger. However, he'd called the business meeting and selected the Dragonfly because it was so nice. Neither would dare to make a scene at a place so nice and so public.

At 12:59 that afternoon Rory entered the Dragonfly's bright dining room. The yellow walls and the grass-green chairs formed a stark contrast to her gloomy mood. Logan followed his wife, his hand placed on the small of her back. Intimate, protective, and decidedly husbandly. But Mitchum wasn't so easily fooled.

"Sit."

Logan and Rory obediently pulled out their chairs and sat, just as Derek, one of the waiters rushed to their side with a tray of Sookie's famous iced-teas. She put whole lemon slices in the glass, not one of those wedges that hung carelessly from the edge. Mitchum appreciated that.

"Sookie's prepared a special menu," Derek said, and handed them each a green cardboard card with the menu printed up on the inside. Homemade broccoli and cheese soup with crunchy croutons. A BLT sandwich on sourdough bread with duck bacon and cranberry mayo with hand-cut veg chips on the side. And for desert? A Belgian chocolate mousse. It was all very fancy comfort food.

"Sookie has outdone herself," Mitchum smiled as he glanced over his menu. Logan hummed in agreement and Rory made some offhand comment about duck bacon and how just about anything could be bacon nowadays.

"Of course," Mitchum said condescendingly, "but we aren't here to talk about bacon, are we?"

"Well, no, I know," she mumbled but the pointed look Mitchum gave her caused her to stop talking.

"I know bacon is just such a fascinating topic, but I find my business, the family business, a much more fascinating subject, don't you think?"

"Dad…"

"Of course," Mitchum carried on, disregarding Logan, "if that doesn't quiet catch your interest, we could also talk about your relationship."

"Mitchum!" Rory interjected, but he didn't care. "I'm appalled. Absolutely appalled!"

Logan looked down at his cup of soup.

"In 35 years of marriage, Shira has never treated me the way you've treated my son. Appalling, I have no other words."

Awful, terrible, dreadful, atrocious, horrendous, inexcusable, abysmal. Rory couldn't stop the mental list that ran in her head, and by the look on Logan's face, she could tell that he'd formed his own list. But neither dared to share it with Mitchum and he sighed, "That being said, divorce is not an option."

Rory felt Logan's eyes on her. She was the one who'd said she didn't know about them. Cryptic. And did not knowing automatically equal divorce? That was another question she didn't have an answer to. And even if that's what she – ultimately they – wanted, Mitchum couldn't possibly have the power to veto it, did he?

"By all means, separate. Rory can take the New York apartment. Lottie and Logan can have the mansion in Hartford. You can stay in the pool house when you visit. Divide the yacht and the jet – I could care less. But you two, you two got married without a pre-nup, you have a child and are an integral part of the company."

Logan cocked his head at his father, and Mitchum snorted, "Yes, son, even you. And that makes a divorce far too messy and far too complicated. Besides, the Huntzberger-Gilmore name is far too powerful to pull apart. Think of what our associates will say? Hell, think of what our neighbors will say! Those society women will practically wet themselves from sheer excitement. The gossip mill with come right off its hinges – the talk will be deafening and our family will be scandalized. I won't stand for it and I'm sure as hell Richard won't either."

Mitchum reached for his iced-tea, while Rory fixed her eyes on the floating lemon in hers. It looked like a raft. "Divorce was never on the table," she said after a few moments of silence.

"But if it was," Logan said, careful not to reveal the relief in his voice, "we'd go ahead with it, lack of pre-nups and gossip mills be dammed."

Mitchum just looked at Logan, not really wanting to get into that what-if right now and Rory rolled her eyes. Realistically, practically speaking Mitchum was right. Their families had too much invested and a divorce would be messy. "It doesn't matter. We're working this out," she said flatly.

"How?" Mitchum demanded.

"It's between us, Dad."

"It _was_ personal, son," Mitchum said sharply. "It became my business the moment Rory wrote a fifty thousand dollar check to Jess Mariano."

"My money," Rory repeated for what seemed like the millionth time in 2 days.

"_Your_ money," Mitchum corrected, using his spoon to indicate between Rory and Logan. "No pre-nup, need I remind you? And that means that you, Rory my dear, blatantly and deliberately invested in a competitor on behalf you and your husband even if that money was once your great-grandmothers'. And that investment violates our company's code of conduct." Mitchum let the seriousness and implications of her actions sink in for a minute, while his finished the rest of his soup.

At the same time, Rory's heartbeat sped up and red blotches spread across her chest. She dropped her spoon, which hit the table with a loud bang. "Are you firing me?"

Logan looked at his wife with concern and then at his Dad, this time with a curious look on his face. Mitchum was pulling out the big guns, and really, he had every right to. It never dawned on him that Rory (and him, by default) had violated the company's policy before.

Mitchum shrugged and slurped his soup, not looking concerned at all. "It's policy, Rory. It's in the handbook. You knew the consequences, so it's not like it's a secret."

"But – "

"No, you crossed a line." Mitchum folded his hands in his lap as Derek cleared the soup bowls. "Imagine if I let you stay and word got out, huh? We could be sued. Dragged before some ethics committee. Former employees would come crawling out of the woodwork. It's too big of a risk."

"But – "

Mitchum wouldn't let her get a word in edgewise. "I don't see what the problem is, Rory. You are aware of our code of conduct. You are not the Queen. You are not exempt. And besides, I thought you wanted to be treated like everyone else?"

Rory's brows furrowed, and the red blotches were spreading across her arms and face. And she wanted to shout so badly, but she wouldn't. Not here. Damn him for picking the Dragonfly.

"After all of the hours I put in," she spoke softly, but harshly; her anger all but tangible. "Writing that damn book, the book tour, all that time away from Logan and Lottie."

"Your choice," Mitchum said calmly.

"And then, then… all of the overtime at the office and all of those crappy manuscripts, and…"

"Again," Mitchum pointed at her, "your choice. You could've worked from home."

"And this!" she raised her hands in aggravation. "This is how you repay me?"

Mitchum chuckled darkly. "I'm not indebted to you, Gilmore." He spoke softly, stoically. It was the voice that put the fear of God in you. "You signed your contract when you started? You received a copy of the code of conduct, correct?"

"Well, yes, but –"

"And you understood the document? It was all clear?"

"Like freaking crystal," Rory responded hotly.

"And you were of sound mind when you cut your dear friend Jess that check?"

Rory felt the walls caving in around her as the gravity of the situation hit her. She almost felt tears well up in her eyes, but she wouldn't cry. "Yes," she said finally and dropped her head to her chest, basically admitting her defeat.

"Well, then, I don't really understand what the problem is." Mitchum wiped his hands on the cloth napkin, as if to say, that's that. "You broke our agreement and therefore you are no longer employed at Huntzberger Publishing."

Mitchum turned to his son. "Logan, since technically, you had no prior knowledge of this investment and weren't technically working for us at the time, you've loop-holed your way into staying employed. I'm sure that's a blow to you, but there it is."

"Okay," Logan said, "that's, um, well. Okay."

"Articulate," Mitchum snorted, "Glad to see that Yale education paid off."

Rory wasn't aware of this little banter between her husband and his father. She was too shocked to absorb anything right now. She'd been fired. Old York let her go due to some dark and twisty deals with Milton, but she'd never been fired, actually fired. And now her own father-in-law fired her?

"Mitchum…" Rory started but he held up his hand to silence her. "It's a done deal, Rory."

"Dad!" Logan interjected.

"Oh, son," Mitchum raised his hands, "don't worry about it. I thought you wanted everyone to be at home to spend time with Lottie. Give her that blissful, idyllic childhood you so sorely missed?"

"Yes, but no, you're twisting my words!"

"Of course," Mitchum continued, "this all could've been avoided…."

"If you're saying that if I'd been working instead of Rory…," Logan interrupted and Mitchum responded hotly. "No, son, that's not what I'm saying. I'm just asking: who knows?" He looked at Logan, daring him to respond and then to Rory, who couldn't stand to meet his gaze.

"Fine," Mitchum said, "Let's just suppose. So, suppose we had a lead. We'll call him Chess. It's short for Chester. Chess is the best: hardworking, sharp, talented. And Chess works with sharp, talented people, very much like himself. These are the type of guys we want working at HPG. And Chess owns a small publishing house and Chess needs some kind of cash because right now they are cranking out 50 odd books a year but they could be doing triple or quadruple that if they just had the funds. And that number is just based on the sheer amount of offers. So imagine what they could do with a little bit of marketing. Or, a freaking website! Anyway, Chess is kind of a hard-knock kid, broken home, kind of troubled, you know, doesn't trust too easily. Wary of suits, corporate people like ourselves. And Chess is a lot stubborn, doesn't want to sell out. He gets that from his uncle. But we want Chess. And Chess doesn't want us, but he should. So the mulch-million dollar question is how do we get Chess to want us?"

Mitchum looked at Rory, "And I'll tell you right now, sweetheart, it's not by giving him a fifty-thousand dollar check. And it's not going after him for one measly book. Not when Chess has so much potential."

Rory looked away embarrassed and Logan felt bad, especially because he knew where is Dad was heading with this. "Dad," Logan started, "Rory already feels bad enough as it is. Can we just do this another time?"

"We're doing this now, Logan," Mitchum responded. "So, answer me this. Why don't we want to sign Chess for one book?"

"Because you'd have to re-negotiate each deal," Logan responded, as if it was obvious.

"But that's how it works," Rory interjected. "And then you contract him: 5 years, a book a year…"

"Yeah," Logan agreed, "but this Chess guy doesn't do production and that contract would make him feel like he's a factory worker. Chess creates and others make sure his publishing house doesn't go under. They need that income."

Mitchum nodded proudly, "So?"

"Sooo," Logan sighed heavily, and continued as he carefully avoided eye-contact with his wife, "you want to acquire the publishing house."

"Meaning?"

"Everything. Chester, his guys, his books, manuscripts, everything they've got in the pipeline."

"But Jess doesn't want to sell out!" Rory slammed her fist on the table, "we talked about that. I know! He'd hate that!"

"He's not," Logan shrugged casually, very much like Mitchum would, "we'd offer him a boutique company under the HPG umbrella." God, he hated his father so much sometimes, but he couldn't deny what a brilliant business man his father was. It was a deal as cunning, as dirty, as historic as the time Floyd Stiles managed to persuade Richard Gilmore back into the insurance group, and kick his own son, Jason, out of the industry forever in the process.

A small laugh escaped Logan, "Jess is in charge. There's no real involvement on our side. Just an x-amount of profit margin, and hell, we re-invest that in him anyway. And he can even stay in Philly. So, really, it's a win-win."

Rory gave her husband a disgusted look – how could he have put all of Mitchum's pieces together so quickly? And how could he approve? "I know Jess, he'd never!"

"Oh," Mitchum raised his index finger as if to make a point, "Oh, but he did."

* * *

**I just wanted to say Happy New Year & thanks for being so kind in your reviews. I know nothing has been fixed and Mitchum's bomb potentially only caused more problems. Because she's really fired and Jess really did accept his offer. And Logan and Rory aren't really speaking. The aftermath of this though will be really sweet, I promise. **


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